Forty some years ago, I discovered and became an admirer of Wendell Berry. I am sorry to learn that he died yesterday at age 92. I have shared many of his poems and quotes before but not this one:
The Loved Ones By Wendell Berry
The loved ones we call the dead
depart from us and for awhile 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.
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