Passing of an absent friend

It was quite by accident that I learned of the passing of someone I knew a long time ago. Lois Martin Bressler was an “adult student” while I was attending Suffolk Community College in the early 90s. She worked with me and a lot of other kids – because kids we were, not only in age but in understanding – on creating Evolution, the twice-yearly school magazine for literature and art. Creating that magazine, reading and editing and laughing and bonding, was one of the best learning experiences I have ever had in my life. Lois was an inspiration to every one of us through all of the eddies and currents of our lives, a steady shining light no matter the tribulations (both literary and personal) we faced.

She was our cool aunt, older and wiser, kinder to us than we probably deserved, and so saturated with knowledge and talent that we absorbed it just being around her. I fancied myself as a poet for a while – never again since, even though I tried – and as I struggled with the art of verse, Lois would offer advice, suggestions, and impart her unique wisdom to help coax the best version of my awful poetry out of my frustrated pen and onto the beleaguered page.

Working with a group of other writers and artists, we always viewed each other’s work blind, but we knew within one line when one of her poems was in front of us. Through her words we saw the world the way she saw it, with beauty at every turn, a world of color and emotion made more vibrant just by looking through her eyes. Her poetry had the feel of something reverent of the past and hopeful for the future, with language that gently swayed between Old English romance and religiosity and a modern sense of freedom and personality. Even when writing about something less cheery, elegance and joy were infused into every line.

Lois was a mentor, an inspiration, a role-model and one of the kindest, most generous people I have had the pleasure of meeting. I regret that I lost touch with her after I finished at SCCC – one of the few benefits of our modern social network is that it is easier to keep in contact with the many people we meet – and if I could now, I would thank her for her unselfishness, her sincerity, her and the gift of her words. Her felicity, her optimism, her vibrance, and her tutelage have remained a part of my writing to this day.

I dug out my old copies of our magazine and chose one of her poems to share. I hope you enjoy meeting Lois through her verse. I miss her, but I have a small piece of her with me in the words and wisdom she shared with us.
 

Spring

by Lois Bressler

Solemn comes the soul of spring
With song of silver on its wing.
By windows wet with winter’s death
Robins breasted red doth set.
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Upon a sill a note to trill
Of golden rains and worms to bill
Sticks and twine to weave a nest
To shelter nature’s burning quest.
 
Blue bells chime a choral sigh
While west winds bear a birthing cry
Which echoes down the garden path
And flurries round the prophet’s bath.
 
Blessed Sun with nettles freed
Feeds the life within the seed.

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