Throughout Carole Chambers’ She Draws the Rain there is a controlled patience that is used to evoke the mystical and real powers of the natural world. There is no ritualized adornment, no rhetorical rhapsody. In these poems the blood slows as breath turns to mist. You are there; you witness the beaded efficiency of the orb weaver webs and fathom the owl’s great hunger. Living as part of the circadian rhythms that wash over Hornby Island, her home off Canada’s west coast, she knows what goes on in the hummingbird’s beds, in the black thickets, and swollen waves. She knows how the raven gathers intelligence, and understands the wisdom of the apple, pear, and plum. There are moments of anxiety, of loss, and clearly fashioned visions of mortality, but her elemental communion and wise desire to connect the self with the stones, sea, forest, and sky is a reminder that if we are quiet and patient the land will speak to us.
“Chambers is a prophet of incredible power and vision . . .” — Theresa Wolfwood, Reviews The Barnard-Boecker Centre
“Her poetry is powerful, free and unlabored, she is utterly at home with her poetic self. She writes with grace and ease — and the risk taking — that comes with maturity.” — Will Stone, author of The Cave and the Mountain.