come monday night


Once again, Rilke has the right words for my heart. Always.

O night, nights, nights
I would like to write
and always, always remain hunched over pages,
and fill them with intricate symbols
that are not from my tired hand.
That reveal to me to be the hand of someone
doing wondrous things with me.
Thus in the darkness dimensions rise
and strengths, that, as I serve, make use of me,
and whose last syllable I veil
mysteriously with my life,
and silences that let me dive
so deeply into what's without sound
that I relax under all words,
and no one notices when I stop,
and even in a smooth pond
my movement would make no rings
since I'm so deep now
in the dark realm of the ground.

-- from Diaries of A Young Poet

(Photo taken from flickr)

3 comments:

  1. What an excellent poem. Thank you for sharing.

    ReplyDelete
  2. indeed, i do know exactly that desire.

    ReplyDelete