It’s not a poem (a real lyric will come tomorrow) but a piece of prose so poetic and lovely it made my breath catch in my throat as I read it, legs crossed beneath me, on the tube.
“Since my grandmother died, I have dreamed about her every night. Her death was just a misunderstanding. She is better now, walking and laughing, telling me stories. She doesn’t need me to take care of her anymore, and she has not come back to take care of me. We are simply together and glad for it. There are always those perfect times with the people we love, those moments of joy and equality that sustain us later on. I am living that time with my husband now. I try to study our happiness so that I will be able to remember it in the future, just in case something happens and we find ourselves in need. These moments are the foundation upon which we build the house that will shelter us into our final years, so that when love calls out, “How far would you go for me?” you can look it in the eye and say truthfully “Farther than you would ever have thought was possible.”
– Ann Patchett (from This is the story of a happy marriage.)