Coming To Hear
He who insisted that he could not hear music
is floating over a dark sea
on which the lights
accompany him
wave upon wave
unseen and unbroken
there is a line of black trees
just over the horizon
on an island
which he will think familiar
now it is the sixth night
and he is hearing the colors
the sounds of blue at night
that believes in nothing as always
is carrying him
–W. S. Merwin, from his book The Rain in the Trees
“Coming to Hear” is one of my favorite poems. I always find it so moving. I think it is because my Dad was partially deaf from flying on large aircraft during his working life. I love to imagine that he, too, might hear colors even in the afterlife. That’s a piece of what the poem means to me or how it speaks to me. Such a beautiful poem. Thank you.