My eyes already touch the sunny hill.
going far ahead of the road I have begun.
So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;
it has inner light, even from a distance-

and charges us, even if we do not reach it,
into something else, which, hardly sensing it,
we already are; a gesture waves us on
answering our own wave...
but what we feel is the wind in our faces.

Added: on November 1st, 2005 at 3:15 AM | Viewed: 6331 times | Comments (2)

Poet: Rainer Maria Rilke
Poem: A Walk

Poem of the Day on:
Apr 19 2004

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