I love poetry. I love its density of images and the way it makes me cry. Rainer Maria Rilke is a favorite. I thought he–was a she–for years. I’ve interspersed a favorite poem by him between photos of this piece:
Go To the Limits of Your Longing
-Rainer Maria Rilke
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.
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.
Give me your hand.