The Jubilee: Poems

In plain-speak reminiscent of William Stafford or Jim Harrison, John Blase traverses a landscape both strangely familiar and yet utterly new: the "simple meadow of the heart." In The Jubilee, the poet's vision is rooted firmly in ordinary life: cashmere and cleavage, a jar of olives, the "mobile home" of our flesh. His gentle, winsome poems, laced liberally with a lifetime of scripture, offer his readers a refreshing glimpse into all things God-and good. Joy Roulier Sawyer, author of Tongues of Men and Angels It is rare to be called home and onward in the same moment. In The Jubilee, poet John Blase naturalizes human faith so real as to transcend any hint of cultural affectation. For certain you'll go to church, but by way of "frog song," his father's "instant coffee," and in the sober burial of the prodigal "out back beneath the oaks." One gets a sense of reading the marrow of a man and not merely his words. In doing so, the old way becomes a true way onward, home. James Scott Smith, Author of Water, Rocks and Trees