I am too alone in the world, and yet not alone enough
to make every moment holy.
I am too tiny in this world, and not tiny enough
just to lie before you like a thing,
shrewd and secretive.
I want my own will, and I want simply to be with my will,
as it goes toward action;
and in those quiet, sometimes hardly moving times,
when something is coming near,
I want to be with those who know secret things
or else alone.
I want to be a mirror for your whole body,
and I never want to be blind, or to be too old
to hold up your heavy and swaying picture.
I want to unfold.
I don’t want to stay folded anywhere,
because where I am folded, there I am a lie.
and I want my grasp of things to be
true before you. I want to describe myself
like a painting that I looked at
closely for a long time,
like a saying that I finally understood,
like the pitcher I use every day,
like the face of my mother,
like a ship
that carried me
through the wildest storm of all.
From Rilke’s Book of Hours: Love Poems to God.
Pretty astounding stuff. Love it and love you
Sent from my iPhone
>
Yes. So true, and so you. Thank you for living into this deep blessing. You are such a gift!
Thank you! This spoke to my soul! I’m in love with Rilke poems from his book!
Love this poem, with its still centeredness, yet also forward motion –
especially this line: “…I want to describe myself
like a painting that I looked at
closely for a long time,”.
( It reminds me how much I enjoy writing poems using visual art as the prompt – aka ekphrastic poetry.)