A Sunday Poem – Whatever Happens

Whatever happens,
those who have learned
to love one another
have made their way
into the lasting world
and will not leave,
whatever happens.

This Day: Collected & New Sabbath Poems, Wendell Berry

You’re right – I still haven’t finished my book of poetry by Wendell Berry. This poem (which again appeared in the knick of time for today’s post) is at exactly the 50% mark. I’m not in a rush. Each poem seems to show itself when I need it, so I’ll wait patiently for the correct moment for each.

Y’all – whatever happens. The next 3.5 weeks (months??) are going to be harrowing, whatever ends up happening. We must keep breathing, whatever happens. Whatever happens can be overcome.

(Does it sound like I’m preparing myself for the worst? I am. Just in case.)

I hope today is exactly what you need. I’ll see you tomorrow.


5 thoughts on “A Sunday Poem – Whatever Happens

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    1. He wrote this poem in the late ’90s and, somehow, that brings me EVEN more comfort. This sounds wacky, but thoughtful people have been in despair for a long time. Right Now is totally unprecedented, but still — humans have overcome so much. This era is no different. (I hope.)


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