A review by bluelilyblue
Tongues of Fire by Seán Hewitt

4.0

and each time I half-expect
to meet someone among the trees
or inside the empty skeleton

of the rhododendron, and I wonder if I have ruined
these places for myself, if I have brought
each secret to them and weighed the trees

with things I can no longer bear.

There's a quiet, solemn beauty to these poems which eerily complements the heartrending energy they exude. Emotions fluctuate and blend, sometimes to the point where despair bleeds into tenderness and vice versa; what stays constant is the sacred dialogue with nature: trees, soil, bodies of water are ever the healers, the translators of this emotional tumult. No matter how deep they might plunge into darkness and grief, Seán Hewitt's poems always bring gentleness and warmth to the surface. An undercurrent of love and sincerity that made me miss home, and my parents, and the woodlands. And many more.