In A Mandala of Hands, John Warner Smith crafts poems of patient and painstaking wisdom, poems that lead the reader deliberately into an array of vantages, laboring hard to leaven inquiry with insight. At the heart of this book’s mosaic approach beats a steady quest for recovery and repair. Awake to the knowledge that human hands carry “a story in every line.” The well of Smith’s poetic voice manages to feel both deep with waiting and fresh with resolve: “Like memory and dawn, death will heal, / wheat will bloom, and birdsongs will light / the rooms of their house. Time will love.” And so, with each reading, I feel more and more compelled to echo Smith’s own petition from the opening poem of this moving collection: “Let [this] book talk.”
~ Geffrey Davis
In A Mandala of Hands, John Warner Smith crafts poems of patient and painstaking wisdom, poems that lead the reader deliberately into an array of vantages, laboring hard to leaven inquiry with insight. At the heart of this book’s mosaic approach beats a steady quest for recovery and repair. Awake to the knowledge that human hands carry “a story in every line.” The well of Smith’s poetic voice manages to feel both deep with waiting and fresh with resolve: “Like memory and dawn, death will heal, / wheat will bloom, and birdsongs will light / the rooms of their house. Time will love.” And so, with each reading, I feel more and more compelled to echo Smith’s own petition from the opening poem of this moving collection: “Let [this] book talk.”
~ Geffrey Davis