Ada Limón is the 24th Poet Laureate of the United States. In her recent interview “To Be Made Whole” with On Being by Krista Tippett, Ada Limón creates laughter in the very same moment that she launches us into serious contemplation. As she reads her poetry, she is at once genuine and humorous, holy and irreverent.
In the poem that speaks to me today, she tackles the topic of grief.
After the Fire You ever think you could cry so hard that there’d be nothing left in you, like how the wind shakes a tree in a storm until every part of it is run through with wind? I live in the low parts now, most days a little hazy with fever and waiting for the water to stop shivering out of the body. Funny thing about grief, its hold is so bright and determined like a flame, like something almost worth living for. From The Carrying by Ada Limón
In the interview, she says:
… I think there’s so much value in grief… it’s continual… it hits you sometimes. You’re never like, “Oh, I’m just done grieving.” … you can pretend you are… then it hits you… you touch a doorknob, and it reminds you of your mother’s doorknob… something happens and you get all of a sudden for it to come flooding back.
This particular poem was written after the 2017 fires near her home in the valley of Sonoma, California. As she contemplated the burning forests and wildlife, she describes the moment of realizing that she was just living to see what happens next. In that moment where the world was burning out of her control, the fiery image becomes the metaphor for the paradox of grief. The depth of a sadness burning out of control also gives reason to get up the next morning and see what happens next.
The last line of the poem leaves me with hope in the burning forest fire of grief.
Books of Poetry by Ada Limón
