
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:
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.)