Remembering E

Within the circles of our lives
we dance the circles of the years,
the circles of the seasons
within the circles of the years,
the cycles of the moon
within the circles of the seasons,
the circles of our reasons
within the cycles of the moon.

Again, again we come and go,
changed, changing. Hands
join, unjoin in love and fear,
grief and joy. The circles turn,
each giving into each, into all.
Only music keeps us here,

Each by all the others held.
In the hold of hands and eyes
we turn in pairs, that joining
joining each to all again.

And then we turn aside, alone,
out of the sunlight gone

into the darker circles of return.

The Wheel (1982), Song (4)
Wendell Berry (1934 - )

My sister E would have turned 63 today. In May she died, unexpectedly, in her sleep. Her "big sister" by 21 months, I cannot remember my life without her. We lived on opposite sides of the United States as adults, but phone calls and occasional visits took us right back to our childhood years.

I am fortunate to have another younger sister, M, who is eight years my junior. We treasure each day more now, having seen how suddenly they can end.

(Wendell Berry -- poet, novelist, essayist, and farmer -- is one of my favorite writers.)