I love the dark hours of my being.
My mind deepens into them.
There I can find, as in old letters,
the days of my life, already lived,
and held like a legend, and understood.
Then the knowing comes: I can open
to another life that's wide and timeless.
So I am sometimes like a tree
rustling over a gravesite
and making real the dream
of the one its living roots
embrace:
a dream once lost
among sorrows and songs.
~ Ranier Maria Rilke ~
(Rilke’s Book of Hours:Love Poems to God, trans. by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy)
To subscribe to Panhala, send a blank email to Panhala-subscribe@yahoogroups. com
No comments:
Post a Comment