Entrance

Whoever you are: in the evening step out

of your room, where you know everything;

yours is the last house before the far-off:

whoever you are.

With your eyes, which in their weariness

barely free themselves from the worn-out threshold,

you lift very slowly one black tree

and place it against the sky: slender, alone.

And you have made the world. And it is huge

and like a word which grows ripe in silence.

And as your will seizes on its meaning,

tenderly your eyes let go. . . .

~ Rainer Maria Rilke ~

Thought you might be interested in this site for a poetry/photo subscription:

www.panhala.net/Archive/Index.html

The above was today's offering.

(I loved the photo and am so brain dead at the moment that the poem almost just a jumble of words right now, but I think the weariness and heaviness and then the letting go images really spoke to me. I just wanted to pass it on to you with a wish:

May you all have restful sleep and joyful days.)