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breathwords's review
5.0
Rachel Finch’s first poetry book shows the warrior behind the writer. A Sparrow Stirs Its Wings is raw and gritty, heartbreaking and insightful. She tells the story of childhood abuse in lines of gut wrenching poetry that would leave even the hardest hearts with cracks. Each piece is filled with emotion. Strung together, they show a journey from darkness into light.
She divides the book into two parts. In Part One, the first section is Broken Eggshells. I can’t think of a more fitting title. She details her story with softness, but follows it up with a crush of words that would leave a delicate foundation shattered. I was particularly drawn to page 35, to the poem called Girls Are Not For Beating. There is something powerful in the fragility. Something incredibly courageous.
“I take rejection like a winner...
smile through the bruises, keep your secrets in my throat, along with your name.
I won’t speak you into existence.”
In the second section of part one, Wings, there is this brush of realization and acceptance. Or that’s how I read it. The knowledge that not all hands are rough and not all hearts are gentle. Some things just are, or were, or will be. But, underneath all that, hope still exists.
Part Two is called Flight, and it carries grace in its wings. Each poem describes part of the journey. They sing of survival and spirituality. On page 104, I fell in love with the piece called You Are All Glory. She preaches to herself and to the reader, imploring us to rise above and take back the power that others tried to claim. I also loved all the references to space, and the moon, and the lights, and something tells me that if souls are stars, it’ll be Rachel’s that shines the brightest.
Rachel’s ability to turn all the trauma into triumph is incredible. The book is poignant and powerful. She is an inspiration to those whose broken wings need to re-learn how to fly. I look forward to reading more from her.
She divides the book into two parts. In Part One, the first section is Broken Eggshells. I can’t think of a more fitting title. She details her story with softness, but follows it up with a crush of words that would leave a delicate foundation shattered. I was particularly drawn to page 35, to the poem called Girls Are Not For Beating. There is something powerful in the fragility. Something incredibly courageous.
“I take rejection like a winner...
smile through the bruises, keep your secrets in my throat, along with your name.
I won’t speak you into existence.”
In the second section of part one, Wings, there is this brush of realization and acceptance. Or that’s how I read it. The knowledge that not all hands are rough and not all hearts are gentle. Some things just are, or were, or will be. But, underneath all that, hope still exists.
Part Two is called Flight, and it carries grace in its wings. Each poem describes part of the journey. They sing of survival and spirituality. On page 104, I fell in love with the piece called You Are All Glory. She preaches to herself and to the reader, imploring us to rise above and take back the power that others tried to claim. I also loved all the references to space, and the moon, and the lights, and something tells me that if souls are stars, it’ll be Rachel’s that shines the brightest.
Rachel’s ability to turn all the trauma into triumph is incredible. The book is poignant and powerful. She is an inspiration to those whose broken wings need to re-learn how to fly. I look forward to reading more from her.
kristianamr's review
5.0
From the moment Sudden Denouement Publishing announced the publication of Rachel Finch’s debut poetry collection, I could not wait to read it. Finch made a brave and bold entrance onto Blood into Ink, with ignition pieces like Girls are not for Beating (pg.35). I was hooked by her ability to sing fire with a bloody mouth.
A Sparrow Stirs its Wings houses this spirit of fight and flight. Flight not from fear but from the space she has shaped to soar. The structure of the collection reminds me of Alfa’s Silent Squall except Finch begins with the girl crossing her heart and hoping to die, walking on eggshells (pg.19), and ends as a woman who recognises strength and hope in her reflection:
‘I did not notice the growth, until I had grown,
I had not seen myself changing, becoming,
until the woman I forged reflected my gaze
and held my stare with no shame.’
- Hold the Stare
In fact, I would even say Finch’s sparrow does more than stir its wings – it unfurls them in the morning sun and defies the laws of gravity.
This debut collection is more than just honest, beautifully brutal storytelling. Finch has created a collection the reader will feel compelled to return to, time and time again. Moon Breathing makes me fall in love, Heal is the advice I need imprinted on my palm and Still Smouldering never fails to provoke a visceral reaction:
‘I was reborn a dragon feasting on the fire in my belly, lit with milk teeth in my mouth’
Finch’s voice has found a home, in these pages and in my chest. She touches her readers. She tells the truth and explores hers. She leaves you with the following words:
‘You are the smell of rain before it hits the soil.’
And you can’t help but believe them.
A Sparrow Stirs its Wings houses this spirit of fight and flight. Flight not from fear but from the space she has shaped to soar. The structure of the collection reminds me of Alfa’s Silent Squall except Finch begins with the girl crossing her heart and hoping to die, walking on eggshells (pg.19), and ends as a woman who recognises strength and hope in her reflection:
‘I did not notice the growth, until I had grown,
I had not seen myself changing, becoming,
until the woman I forged reflected my gaze
and held my stare with no shame.’
- Hold the Stare
In fact, I would even say Finch’s sparrow does more than stir its wings – it unfurls them in the morning sun and defies the laws of gravity.
This debut collection is more than just honest, beautifully brutal storytelling. Finch has created a collection the reader will feel compelled to return to, time and time again. Moon Breathing makes me fall in love, Heal is the advice I need imprinted on my palm and Still Smouldering never fails to provoke a visceral reaction:
‘I was reborn a dragon feasting on the fire in my belly, lit with milk teeth in my mouth’
Finch’s voice has found a home, in these pages and in my chest. She touches her readers. She tells the truth and explores hers. She leaves you with the following words:
‘You are the smell of rain before it hits the soil.’
And you can’t help but believe them.
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