Tuesday, December 14, 2010

The Dark Hours

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

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)

No comments:

Post a Comment