Quote:
Originally Posted by LostOnTheTrail
It’s possible I am pushing through solid rock
in flintlike layers, as the ore lies, alone;
I am such a long way in I see no way through,
and no space: everything is close to my face,
and everything close to my face is stone.
I don’t have much knowledge yet in grief
so this massive darkness makes me small.
You be the master: make yourself fierce, break in:
then your great transforming will happen to me,
and my great grief cry will happen to you.
Rainier Maria Rilke - 'Pushing Through'
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Thank you for posting this. Rilke is my favorite poet.
I love the lines. . . Who shows a child who she really is? . . Who has twisted us like this, so that we always take the shape of someone saying goodbye?