A Harbinger

I am the fire
Blazing in the night.
I scorch away the old,
A harbinger of new life.

There is no love for me.
Only for the beauty that sprouts forth
Many years later,
When I am forgotten.

Forever I am Yours

Sometimes I wonder if you were real.

Perhaps you were a spirit who crossed paths with me 

as you danced through different dimensions.

Or maybe you were just a dream,

A vague shadow that dissipates as I wake.

And so

The only thing I can say is

thank you.

Sometimes we cross paths for some simple reason. 

To serve a small purpose for a sliver of time.

To be the dot of an “i” for another’s opus.

In that splinter

You became an anchor.

A solid rock foundation.

A reminder that I am not alone. 

You were better than me and yet

You humbled yourself.

You took part in my suffering

Like god incarnate.

In flesh, we cannot coincide.

But you will always be mine.

And forever I am yours.

God Speaks

God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.

These are the words we dimly hear:

You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.

Flare up like a flame
and make big shadows I can move in.

Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don’t let yourself lose me.

Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.

Give me your hand.

- Rainer Maria Rilke, Book of Hours, I 59

Solitude

I have scorched the sun
and let darkness take hold
so that I can neither see
nor be seen.

Speak

We come of age as masks.
Our true face never speaks.

-Rainer Maria Rilke
Rilke's Book of Hours

For This Love

From the divine will we could not be farther;
Better off in the fate of star crossed lovers.
For this love, I willingly become a martyr.

What Is Near You Is Far

"For those who are near you are far, you say, and that shows it is beginning to grow wide about you. And when what is near is far, then your distance is already among the stars and very large."

- Rainer Maria Rilke
Letters to a Young Poet