I typically post “Ignite” cartoons for Friday, but yesterday, I read this short, 13-line poem in the latest New Yorker. I read it and read it again and again, tearing up each time thinking of my own departed loved ones, including my beloved pets. The sentiment is stunningly beautiful.
THE LOVED ONES
by Wendell Berry
The loved ones we call the dead
depart from us and for a while
are absent. And then as if
called back by our love, they come
near us again. They enter our dreams.
We feel they have been near us
when we have not thought of them.
They are simply here, simply waiting
while we are distracted among
our obligations. At last
it comes to us: They live now
in the permanent world.
We are the absent ones.
I just re-read this poem. After I read it several times yesterday, I sent it to the daughter of a beloved who died a month ago. She replied, “So beautiful, it makes me ache.”
The photos in this post are old ones of mine. The top title photo was taken on August 29, 2022 and the bottom one is one of the first ones I ever took of Goose Pond on April 19, 2020. Both were taken at 7 a.m.
That is lovely. It’s not just our obligations though. It’s our life and our other loves.
Love the you enhanced “obligations” with “our life and our other loves,” Neola. They aren’t really obligations, are they, things we do out of a certain sense of duty, though for some, this may be true. They may be obligations as well as burdens.
“Obligations” is the longest word in this poem — four syllables. “Permanent” is the one three-syllable word. The rest of the words are either one or two syllables. In the context of this poem, “obligations” has a certain onomatopoeia — it sounds and feels like “duty.” It has a “hard edge,” so to speak, which in my opinion contrasts and helps to enhance the overall solace and comfort of the poem.
I’m obviously still pondering it.
Thank you…so, so beautiful.
Carol — you are so so welcome. xoxo
Thank you for the beauty of your photos and this poem. It is quite timely for us, as another of our beloveds has received a cancer diagnosis this past week.
Beth . . . NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I am so very sorry. Please text the name of this beloved and I’ll add it to my post-it prayer box.
Oh WOW
Perfect. My father died on Nov 18, 1983 and I have been remembering him. This poem is absolutely what I need. THANK YOU
You are absolutely welcome, Charlotte.
I plan to memorize this poem, it has touched me so.
Sharon, this poem touched me, too. The part, “waiting
while we are distracted among our obligations” gives reason to my question of why thoughts of my family members who have passed away often visit me at night (when I should be sleeping), & are difficult to shake. Now, I will try to cherish those visits more instead of fighting them. The upcoming season isn’t easy for me (3 immediate family members passed away within 3 months of each other, but in different years, & a nephew passed away 3 months after that, again in a different year), but my focus changes a tiny bit each year towards finding the happiness I once had. I think this poem will help. Thank you! I hope you find solace, too.