"blessing the boats" by Lucille Clifton
Let's gather and read about boats, metaphor, and writing in lowercase
Welcome to February lovely gatherers, and a special hello to new subscribers. I’m grateful to have you here. For those who aren’t new: I missed you all so much. My hiatus was much needed. I am feeling rested and excited for the year of poetry ahead. That being said, I am in dire need of a pick-me-up. These last few weeks have kicked my ass (emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually, and any other -allys you can think of).
For this week, I want us to gather around Lucille Clifton’s “blessing the boats.” A short poem (though not quite tiny), this work is one of my favorites from Clifton. I’m excited to talk about the history of this poem, the context, and the lack of capitalization Clifton uses. Without further ado, let’s gather.
blessing the boats
by Lucille Clifton
(at St. Mary’s)
may the tide that is entering even now the lip of our understanding carry you out beyond the face of fear may you kiss the wind then turn from it certain that it will love your back may you open your eyes to water water waving forever and may you in your innocence sail through this to that
Source: Blessing the Boats: New and Selected Poems 1988-2000 (BOA Editions Ltd., 2000)
“blessing the boats” begins with the epigraph “at St. Mary’s.” An epigraph is a short phrase or quote that starts a poem, though it is not technically a line of the poem. Epigraphs can be dates, names, quotes from other works, song lyrics–really anything you can imagine. In this epigraph, Clifton is referring to either St. Mary’s University, where Clifton worked as a professor for many years, or St. Mary’s City in Maryland, where Clifton lived for the end of her career. (Clifton was Maryland’s Poet Laureate from 1979-1982) Though I understood what she was referencing in the epigraph, I was curious why she referenced St. Mary’s in a poem about…boats.
While searching for an answer, I stumbled upon a literary blog called “Better Living through Beowolf” with a post about this poem. Robin Bates, who writes the blog, wrote about the connection between this poem and the annual “Blessing of the Fleet” event, which happens on St. Clement’s Island every year in October. This tradition commemorates the Dove landing at St. Mary’s City, MD in 1634, carrying the first English settlers to the shores of Maryland. This poem borrows the nomenclature of this event, substituting “fleet” for “boats,” focusing on the individuals as opposed to the whole.
In fairness, the boats are a metaphor in this poem. I think of the boats as Clifton’s students. (This poem is now often recited at St. Mary’s University’s commencement) Blessing boats is a beautiful metaphor to relay hope and fortune to people. She harnesses the sentiment of blessing courageous travelers embarking on a challenging journey and bestows that on her reader, her students, the people in her life. I love the opening blessing in this poem:
may the tide that is entering even now the lip of our understanding carry you out beyond the face of fear
A boat at sea is subject to the tide, a stand-in for the world around you. Clifton’s first wish for her reader is that the world that encroaches on you even now carries you. She hopes the world cradles you, holds you, lifts you up, and doesn’t capsize you. She hopes that it brings you out past your fear.
Notice that the first blessing in this poem is the only one that is not given directly to “you,” reader. This blessing is to the tide, to the world, to everything you cannot control. May it go easy on you.
The rest of the blessings are for you: that you kiss the wind knowing it is at your back, that your eyes open to see the water is always waving you on, and that you hold your innocence as you travel from this to that. Clifton blesses you for your journey; she wants you to get from this to that. You are a boat, reader, out at sea. Take the blessings and let them carry you.
I’ve written about a Clifton poem before (read about “homage to my hips” here), and if you remember that post, you may have noticed that Clifton writes her poetry in lowercase. It’s a stylistic choice, and all choices in poetry are purposeful and important. As kids, we learn in small words—the only uppercase we know is for our names. We don’t know yet to emphasize some words over others, that there is specificity and importance in some names and places.
Clifton’s choice to use all lowercase in her work signals to me that she wants all of her words to be treated and read equally—the word at the beginning of a sentence is not more important than words in the middle or at the end. The lack of capitalization allows the lines to bleed together, creating a smooth flow of the poem. Capital letters aren’t there to create a pause.
The lowercase also makes this poem feel more intimate. Imagine texting your boss versus your friend—I imagine your syntax is much friendlier and relaxed with your friend than with your boss. Clifton creates openness with her reader by not using any capitalized letters. She writes to you like a friend; she gives you the same blessings she gives all of her readers.
I’ve been coming back to this poem a lot this week. I feel like I need to remind myself that there is wind at my back, and I want to kiss it. I want to embrace the incoming tide and hope that it carries me past my fears. I want to be a sturdy boat that is ready to face the waters. I’m thankful to Lucille Clifton for wishing this for me, too. She took time to use her mind and her hands to write something hopeful for her reader, and I hope you take the time to feel this poem the way I have.
My best to you all, lovely gatherers, and I will see you here in your inbox next week.
If you enjoyed this poem… you can read more by Lucille Clifton here and learn more about some of her iconic poems here.
If you are missing January already… read Kaveh Akbar’s poem Wild Pear Tree—and if you enjoy that, check out his debut novel, “Martyr! A Novel.”
If you want to try writing poetry… try writing blessings (or starting with) by starting your piece with the phrase “may you.” Bonus points: write the poem entirely in lowercase.
COVER PHOTO: Shipping by Moonlight, Claude Monet (1864)
