from Germany with whom I fell in love (I was born near Munich) was in the process of translating the poem, but died before he finished it and before we could physically consummate our relationship, we already had on the inner planes.It Is So Written
You take my Soul
you dip me in Magellan Blue
with utmost care
for you have found my hiding place
behind an ancient timepiece
shamed into abeyance
where shadows reach not.
Now you wring me out with both your
hands, strong and chiseled
I feel your purpose
You have made me ready--
Now you write, this fine perfect
writing tool I am
my feet a feather tip, I am the swirl
of your letters, the crosses of your
words,
Oh, what writing we write!
And now
the parchment yellows
it crumbles in your hands
it blows away in your exhale.
Return me gently
to my hiding place.
You have used me well.
~~~~~
Dear Darkening Ground ! Rainer Maria Rilke
Dear darkening ground,
you’ve endured so patiently the walls we’ve built,
perhaps you’ll give the cities one more hour
and grant the churches and cloisters two,
And those that labor—maybe you’ll let their work
grip them another five hours, or seven
before you become forest again, and
widening wilderness
in that hour of inconceivable terror
when you take back your name
from all things.
Just give me a little more time!
I want to love the things
as no one has thought to love them,
until they’re real and ripe and worthy of you.
I want only seven days, seven
on which no one has ever written himself –
seven pages of solitude.
There will be a book that includes these pages,
and she who takes it in her hands
will sit staring at it a long time,
until she feels that she is being held
and you are writing.
~~~~~
Wild eh?
A
Now you