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The Journey to the West

Though we journey to the West We pray to the East More or less that's the way Each day begins and ends It’s a tale everyone ...

Sunday, December 8, 2019

The Beholder (by Rilke)

After so many lukewarm days
The trees now lash 
At the windowpanes
Speaking fearfully
Of a storm to come
Things in the distance murmur
I cannot stand without a friend
Nor can I love without a sister

As the storm proceeds
The world's remade
Passing through the forest
And through time
Everything now appears ageless
Like a verse in the Book of Psalms
Serious and powerful and eternal

How small is that
With which we wrestle
How great is that 
Which wrestles with us
It leaves us 
Much like these things
Overcome by a huge storm
Spread far and nameless

When we defeat something small
Our success is what diminishes us
But the strange and eternal
Defy our will
That's the Bible's lesson
When the Angel appears
Before the Wrestler to fight
It's then an adversary craves
To struggle against metal that
He feels under his fingers
The strings of a deeper melody

Even when overcome by an Angel
Which often may altogether
Dispense with battle
He is made thus
Fair and upright
Enlarged by that
Hard hand in strife
Which gave form
As he nestled against it
Not lured on by victory
Growth comes from
Succumbing to the mighty
In deepest defeat 

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