
We come to a place by chance; we become of a place through the power of culture to overlay things and events with meaning and memories. Emily Carr’s paintings, for example, have the power to strengthen British Columbians’ connection to their mountains, their sky and their sea; a line of poetry can bring dead leaves to life. See that tree next to your house? You didn’t know what kind of tree it was. You didn’t notice that it kept its dead leaves all winter. Until one day you read a poem that revealed its mystery – and the tree came alive for you. Just so, poetry may reveal to us “all the lonely people” made invisible by our indifference. And see what joy abounds when they too are touched by poetry…
Illustration by Harold Lejeune (L'Arche Beloeil), for a benefit concert by
Angèle Dubeau's orchestra, La Pièta.
«Je suis le fils déchu d'une race surhumaine. [...]
Par nos ans sans vigueur, je suis comme le hêtre
dont la sève a tari sans qu'il soit dépouillé,
Et c'est de désirs morts que je suis enfeuillé,
Quand je rêve d'aller comme allait mon ancêtre».
Alfred Desrochers