Roots and Reverie: The Quiet Promise of Nishi Patel's "Sometimes the Birds Come Back"

A Small-Press-Sunday Review...

Nishi Patel’s second collection, Sometimes the Birds Come Back, is a quietly luminous entry into the world of contemporary poetry, filled with gentle longing, botanical metaphors, and spiritual echoes. Though not quite the thunderclap of brilliance I feel this poet is capable of, this book is full of promise. Patel is unmistakably a talent to watch.

The standout poem, “Lantanas and Purple Sages,” shows Patel at her most distilled and deft, weaving imagery and feeling into something that lingers. There’s a vivid intimacy in her language throughout the collection, with lines like “belly-deep in summer” or “Are we all just fruit rotting on the table,” which reveal a poet capable of great economy and resonance.

Throughout the collection, short micropoems and carefully rendered white space speak to Patel’s skill and sensitivity as a visual artist. Her background in art enriches the reading experience: the illustrations and thoughtful formatting are as much a part of the poetry as the words themselves. This is a book that asks to be seen as well as read.

Poems like “Weeds,” “A Death in the Family,” “How to Travel,” and “Apricity” offer emotional clarity, often in deceptively simple terms. Patel gifts the reader some beautiful language: “Grief is an eclipse of happiness” and “Carry memory like a pearled necklace / hand it down in lineage” are just two examples of her keen ear and lyrical instincts.

There are a few uneven moments. A handful of poems, especially the series of untitled ones, read more like self-acceptance affirmations than poetry proper. I felt that these pieces, while sincere, were less rooted in craft and might have found a better home in a different context, perhaps an entirely separate collection. Similarly, some of the prose-poems or poems utilising forward slashes felt a bit uncertain in their intent.

Yet even in the pieces I didn’t enjoy, there is a palpable sincerity and a reaching toward depth. Patel often seems to just scratch the surface of themes: grief, heritage, femininity, motherhood, faith… with moments that I felt deserved further excavation. I got the sense of a poet only just beginning to discover what she can do.

There’s particular joy in her botanical and animal imagery, and her references to Hindu deities and cultural identity add welcome texture and depth. The collection often gestures toward the spiritual without becoming didactic; another sign of a poet with a light but deliberate touch.

Sometimes the Birds Come Back is not a perfect collection, but that’s part of its charm. It feels like a poet in motion, still finding her full voice, but already capable of producing beauty, insight, and quiet power. Readers who enjoy lyricism, visual poetics, and reflections on memory and growth will find much to admire here.

Nishi Patel is absolutely a poet to watch. Sometimes The Birds Come Back is well worth any reader’s time, and a lovely addition to any poetry shelf.

Get your copy of Sometimes The Birds Come Back here.

Disclaimer: These thoughts are my personal opinions as a poetry reader and reflect my individual experience of the book. They are not intended as a definitive judgment, nor as a critique of the author herself. I have not been paid, commissioned, or compensated in any way for this review.