Another beautiful poem, one anyone who has loved a dog will appreciate

I was listening to the audiobook version of Silas House's 'All These Ghosts', which is a new book of collected poems. It is narrated by the author. When he came to this poem, his voice nearly broke, and I cried. I think you can tell why and where. It's a beautiful volume of poems. I bought both the book and the audiobook. Hearing the poems in his own voice, in his accent, is worth it as well.

[Photo is of my own beloved dog, Cerys, now gone so many years, almost 20. But she lives on in my heart as if it were yesterday, my Cer-Bear 1991-2007]

For You Who Have Loved Old Dogs

Old Andy is a big dog, black as a
night sky in the most lonesome winter months.
He is fat even though he doesn't eat
much these days. His man is one of the best
folks I know. They were hiking deep in the
high mountains when good Andy's back legs stopped
their work. The old dog folded himself down
on the path, his eyes lighting on his mani's
to apologize. My friend carried him
nearly a mile, this great sprawl of blessed
animal, who must have lain in his arms
both thankful and ashamed. They collapsed
together at the end of the steep trail,
holding on to each other, exhausted.

I'm thankful for you who take care of old
dogs. I'm glad you have one another when
you need a friend the most, that you've had times
of stillness, watching the world, that you know
the grace of silence together. I thank
the infinite eternity and the
God of my understanding for people
like you, who carry them when they need you.

Three times now I've held an old dog
in my arms as they left me. Three times
I felt their heartbeats fade away on my palm,
witnessing a shooting star become
more darkness. The end. All lost and gone.

I've grieved for each of them just as much as
I have for people I've loved. I've carried
the sweet sorrow with me, a heft I wish
I did not have to bear but one that I
will always cherish now. The burden
of my empty arms is the greatest weight.

Silas House. All These Ghosts. Durham: Blair, 2025, p. 59.

So beautiful and poignant

I came across this poem while listening to a Yom Kippur service coming from the computer in the living room as it was being live-streamed (the house is rather small, so it's easy to hear, even in my room, which is why I usually listen to my headphones if my friend is on Zoom with friends or classes). It was read before the names of those who had passed over the last year. It's lovely. It is by Rabbi Sylvan Kamen and Rabbi Jack Reimer:

We Remember Them

In the rising of the sun and in its going down,
We remember them.
In the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter,
We remember them.
In the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring,
We remember them.

In the blueness of the sky and in the warmth of summer,
We remember them.
In the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of the autumn,
We remember them.

In the beginning of the year and when it ends,
We remember them.
When we are weary and in need of strength,
We remember them.

When we are lost and sick at heart,
We remember them.
When we have decisions that are difficult to make,
We remember them.

When we have achievements that are based on theirs,
We remember them.
So long as we live, they too shall live,
For they are now a part of us,

As we remember them.

Also, can I just take a moment to mention that the 23rd Psalm is absolutely wonderful when sung in the original Hebrew? English does not serve it justice.

This is beautiful

I haven't seen this before. It's lovely. There was an image with it on Facebook, but it wasn't the whole poem. Here it is:

Epitaph

by Merrit Malloy

When I die
Give what’s left of me away
To children
And old men that wait to die.
And if you need to cry,
Cry for your brother
Walking the street beside you.
And when you need me,
Put your arms
Around anyone
And give them
What you need to give to me.

I want to leave you something,
Something better
Than words
Or sounds.


Look for me
In the people I’ve known
Or loved,
And if you cannot give me away,
At least let me live on in your eyes
And not on your mind.


You can love me most
By letting
Hands touch hands,
By letting
Bodies touch bodies,
And by letting go
Of children
That need to be free.

Love doesn’t die,
People do.
So, when all that’s left of me
Is love,
Give me away.

I’ll see you at home
In the earth.