Poetry Analysis

Emily Isaacson’s "The Poet Speaks" is an incantatory ode to Cornwall—a land both elemental and eternal—framed through the voice of a mystic woman-figure who speaks with poetic authority over nature, faith, and generations. The poem opens with a stark invocation of birds—jackdaws and choughs—whose caws might suggest omens or disturbance. Yet the speaker remains undeterred, marking her spiritual sovereignty. These birds, native to Cornwall, symbolize not only the Celtic wild but also the ancestral, echoing voices of Cornwall’s mythological past.

Nature here is not a passive backdrop but a conscious participant. The coriander that "has not made mud pies in a dented tin" is a surreal, almost folkloric image—perhaps gesturing toward a lost childhood or an innocence untarnished by corruption. Throughout the poem, flora (coriander, heather, barley) and fauna (deer, raven, tit, thrush) merge with the speaker’s emotional and spiritual narrative. Isaacson masterfully uses Cornwall’s geography—its moors, rivers, castles, and cliffs—not just as setting, but as metaphorical terrain for sin, absolution, memory, and womanhood.

The religious imagery is subtle yet potent. The mention of a “convent in the moonlight” and “Jesus’ sacred wife” situates the poem within Christian mysticism, with the speaker resembling a cloistered visionary or a Celtic Mary-figure. The poem’s rhythm takes on the lilt of chant or hymn, enhancing its devotional undertone. There is a recurring spiritual tension between sorrow and sanctity, and between exile and belonging—particularly in references to moping, sin, and seeking warmth. These emotional currents flow like the River Fal, a motif that recurs throughout, linking place with pilgrimage.

The poem also offers a striking maternal vision. The speaker is a guardian of children, of legacy, of fields and seed. "My children will be love" echoes both prophecy and benediction. The image of children as a “swarm,” “blessing on the morrow,” positions fertility, hope, and chaos side by side. Birds become symbols of this generational movement, their nesting and migration linked to human rhythms of birth, growth, and spiritual continuity.

Stylistically, the poem uses slant rhyme and assonance to echo the natural undulations of the land. The use of enjambment and short, image-rich lines creates a breathless intimacy, reminiscent of breath-prayer or Celtic psalmody. The stanzas are dense yet airy, filled with domestic detail—barley farms, ginger beer, oar locks—which root the visionary voice in the tangible world. Isaacson’s Cornwall is not only mythic—it is lived-in, brewed, harvested, and sung over tea.

The ecological undertones are deeply woven. Nature is not conquered, but revered and interpreted—each weed a lesson, each seed a soul. The “rowboat” image, paired with “oar locks” and “ginger beer,” is charmingly nostalgic, but also emblematic of navigating life's turbulent waters. The poet’s invocation to “burn my field fires gladly” suggests seasonal ritual, purification, and renewal. There is something quietly sacramental in the acts of cooking, planting, brushing hair, and harvesting: acts of women across generations, now sacred.

Cornwall itself becomes a kind of Eden—albeit weathered, wintered, and blood-stained. The imagery of “holly’s tears” and “shellacked deadly laughter” introduces pain into the sacred landscape—perhaps a memory of female suffering, or of spiritual inheritance scarred by history. The repeated refrain of birds “flying in” at poem’s start and end gives the structure a circular, almost liturgical feeling—suggesting seasonal cycles, resurrection, and the enduring nature of legend.

In the final stanza, the poem circles back to its beginning: “When the birds come in...” This return not only brings closure but elevates the legend. The speaker’s voice now rests in memory and prophecy. The coriander is now growing, the barley is pearled, and the daughter—once sheltered—is told her legend will be carried by the birds. It is a moment of spiritual coronation, of feminine succession, and poetic fulfillment.

Ultimately, "The Poet Speaks" is both pastoral and prophetic. It is a prayer sung over soil and stream, a maternal invocation, and a bardic blessing. Isaacson merges Cornwall’s rugged physicality with timeless poetic archetypes to create a voice that is both intimate and ancestral. It is a song of lineage, loss, and enduring love.

Provided by WLI, generated by AI (August, 2025)