Behind the Poet’s Pen: Deidre Braley on Writing “The Shape I Take”

by Deidre Braley

A Letter from the Editor:

Deidre Braley is one of my favorite writer friends, and I was honored to be asked to endorse her new poetry chapbook, The Shape I Take, which is out with Bottlecap Press now.

There are so many things I love about Deidre, but one thing that I adore most about her writing is the intimacy and sacredness that Deidre brings to our everyday lives. She is able to wade into complex and sometimes taboo territory for the faithful creative and do it with a nuance that can only bring forth beauty and celebration for all of God’s creation and the human experience.

Her chapbook, The Shape I Take, does just this sublimely. About it, I shared these earnest words:

**THE SHAPE I TAKE** by Deidre Braley

"Deidre Braley’s voice is that of a gentle, feminine sage. She so beautifully captures the most universal human experiences as ones of intimacy and holiness. Reading Deidre’s work is like sitting down with a best friend who will tell you all the secrets you are dying to know about life. The Shape I Take, Deidre’s debut chapbook, does just this for her readers. It offers a divine exhale in a busy world that demands we hold our breath."

On the heels of Bre Strobel ‘s powerful essay on the role of the Christian creative and our call to make good art that doesn’t overly sanitize the sacred and secular—just as the Bible doesn’t sanitize Christian history or the Passion of the Christ—Deidre’s essay and poem below are even more timely.

In a month dedicated to love, Deidre’s work is most certainly a love-song. However, unlike the overly saccharine traditions of Valentine’s Day today, Deidre’s work dives into all the ways we love—specifically through our bodies—and most specifically through the female body. As you know, the best loves are old, hard-fought, and without pretension, and Deidre captures this kind of everyday love in the most intimate way.

As I read Deidre’s words below, I was instantly reminded of some of the most poetic, romantic lines in the Bible. And can you guess which book I thought of? If you guessed Song of Solomon, you’re correct. Listen to this gorgeous verse from King Solomon as he describes his bride in Song of Solomon 4: 1-7:

How beautiful you are, my darling!
Oh, how beautiful!
Your eyes behind your veil are doves…
Your lips are like a scarlet ribbon;
your mouth is lovely…
Your neck is like the tower of David,
built with courses of stone:
on it hang a thousand shields,
all of them shields of warriors.
Your breasts are like two fawns,
like twin fawns of a gazelle
that browse among the lilies.
Until the day breaks
and the shadows flee,
I will go to the mountain of myrrh
and to the hill of incense.
You are altogether beautiful, my darling;
there is no flaw in you.

I praise you, God. because we are “wonderfully and fearfully made,” and I know that full well. Thank you for making mankind and womankind and for all the ways we use our bodies to love. Be it in dancing, singing, lovemaking, childrearing, or caretaking, it is all beautiful and good to you, and I think Deidre would agree.

Please enjoy her essay and poem below. You’re in for a real treat.

You belong here,

Kimberly Phinney

Behind the Poet’s Pen: Deidre Braley on Writing “The Shape I Take”

by Deidre Braley, award-winning poet and author of The Shape I Take

The best part of being a poet is that discomfort and difficulty needn’t ever go unused. In that sense, we can face even the hardest things with the comfort of knowing, “At least I’ll get a poem out of this.”

And so I wrote my debut chapbook The Shape I Take as a sort of consolation prize in the final days of my third pregnancy (as I experienced the purgatory called prodromal labor), at the hospital between contractions, and at home in the weeks that followed, pressing my lips to the baby on my chest and pondering mortality, my changed body, and the various shapes that we all take in the course of a day, a night, a life.

The book’s titular poem is an ode to mothers who are also lovers. The postpartum weeks are delicate and often painful—both physically and emotionally—and it will come as no surprise that in the exhaustion and newness of having a tiny helpless baby at home, intimacy gets pushed aside as a detail to be sorted out later.

This poem is ‘the later,’ and I’m rather fond of it, because it illustrates the steadiness of a marriage that’s in it for the long haul. True—there is loud intrigue to new love and younger bodies—but there’s also a certain kind of romance that can be earned only by the patient stacking of a million tender encounters over a long period of time. This type of romance embodies a quiet wisdom, understanding that there will be days of feast just as sure as there are days of famine, and that whichever the day, you can still count on the familiar comfort of the one you love.

Of course, there are so many different types of love, and so many ways to show it. As women, we use every bit of our essence to nourish and nurture those around us, spilling fragrant offerings everywhere. We make love, we make breastmilk. We kiss lips, we kiss the soft peach fuzz atop our baby’s head. We hold and we mend and we create and we comfort, and sometimes we have to shift shapes so quickly that we are caught between two worlds, trying to figure out how to be all types of love at once.

That’s what happened to me on the evening I wrote this poem, in the middle of our king-sized bed. For a moment, I was suspended between Lover and Mother, unsure of how to make my body take both shapes at once.

As a Christian creative, I struggled at first to share this poem that talks so candidly about intimacy. Would it shock people? Would it be too much? But after some prayer and further contemplation, I realized that my hesitation to share was also the exact reason I needed to: Christian works shy away from sensitive topics all too often, and it is a disservice to everyone who reads them. I believe it is my job both as a poet and as a follower of Christ to bring all the pieces of humanity into the light, so that we can look at them together.

So, my intention for this poem—and for the entire collection—is to say, “Look! It’s okay to talk about motherhood as it really is.”

My hope is that The Shape I Take gives you the courage to acknowledge all the realities and emotions that come with being human: the confusing, the startling, and the beautiful alike.

Love,

Deidre