“Garden peas (Mendel’s Law, 1866)” by Helen Bascand
Garden peas (Mendel’s Law, 1866)
.....'To come across an uncut fold in a new book .....is not extraordinary. The reader simply .....splits open the pages.'*
…………..Gregor Mendel
…………..in the orangery
…………..splits the pods of peas
the scent of grass bursts free
…………..round or angular,
…………..yellow, green
…………..count, record and check
the evening bell strikes night
…………..again next year
…………..cut free the anthers
…………..dust the stigma
…………..cross breed and count
seven thousand three hundred
and twenty three … twenty four
…………..six generations
…………..to keep believing
…………..in the clarity of numbers
Forty-four — brown hair thin
around his widening face,
this painstaking monk —
in long black coat, tall hat —
stands to present his paper.
No man asks a question.
.
***
Years uncover twelve copies of this paper
still propped on library shelves. In so many —
like the one found in Darwin’s collection —
pages are uncut.
.
© Helen Bascand, 2007
Published in Into The Vanishing Point, Steele Roberts, 2007
Reproduced with permission.
*The Monk in the Garden, Robin Marantz Henig
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I was saddened, last week, to learn of the passing of Christchurch poet, Helen Bascand, on April 27. I was privileged to be a member of the same poetry group as Helen for a number of years and was always impressed by her poetic integrity and achievement in both contemporary poetry and haiku.
I had asked Helen some time ago for permission to feature Garden peas (Mendel’s Law, 1866) but had intended waiting to post it until July 21, the Tuesday immediatley adjoining the anniversary of Mendel’s birthday on July 22. To honour Helen’s memory, however, and her poetic legacy, I am posting her poem today.
The reason I chose this poem to feature, among the many wonderful poems and haiku she has written, is because I feel it reflects key elements of Helen’s work: intellectual curiosity, close observation, and compassion.
You can also read Helen’s poem, The Artist Knows, on The Tuesday Poem Hub, featured by Joanna Preston in 2011:
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About Helen Bascand:
Helen is a Christchurch poet who commenced writing poetry seriously later in life but nonetheless made her mark with three collections: Windows on the Morning Side, was published by Sudden Valley Press in 2001; Into the Vanishing Point, Steele Roberts, 2007; and most recently, Nautilus, Caxton Press. I feel these words left by fellow poet, Jan Hutchison, on Joanna Preston’s obituary, best sum up Helen Bascand:
“I think her work deserves to be more widely known. She was a modest person and a poet of sensitivity and depth.”
Haere ra, Helen. We shall miss your quiet excellence.
A fascinating poem; the comparison with Mendel’s peas and the unread paper are telling.
I have not read any of Helen Bascand’s work before. I must see if I can locate one of her books, Helen.
Sorry, that should have read ‘comparisons’.