not a pretty picture. not a good. not a bad. picture. but an argument.

Friday, March 4, 2016

stillness, full, complete

If only once there were utter quiet.
If the random and approximate
fell silent and the neighbors' laughter,
if the murmur that my senses make
didn't hinder me so much when I am awake ---

Then I could in thousandfold thoughts
up to your border think you
and possess you (only for the length of a smile),
in order to give you away to all that are living
like gratitude.

Rainer Maria Rilke, Book of Hours
translated by James Owens