I am not the sort of person who walks around reciting poems to myself. I would like to be that sort of person, but so far, I haven’t put in the time or effort that memorizing poetry would require. In fact, I think the only poem that I know by heart is Shel Silverstein’s “How Not to Have to Dry the Dishes”—a relic from childhood. Fragments of other poems live inside me, though. Here is a line from Rilke that bubbles up often: “Go to the limits of your longing.”
I've been sitting with this evocative piece since it intersected my life on my birthday. So many Rilke fragments floating around, circling back with new meanings, new import, at new times of life. Thank you for the encouragement to think more about what I love FOR, rather than always what burdens I long to shed.
I've been sitting with this evocative piece since it intersected my life on my birthday. So many Rilke fragments floating around, circling back with new meanings, new import, at new times of life. Thank you for the encouragement to think more about what I love FOR, rather than always what burdens I long to shed.
Beautiful and evocative! And the quote (!beauty and terror and no feeling is final) is perfect for me in this moment.