Part Two, Sonnet XXIX by Rainer Maria Rilke
Quiet friend who has come so far,
sense how your breath expands space.
Amidst the beams of the gloomy belfry,
Let yourself toll. As you ring,
what batters you becomes your strength.
Enter and exit, in your metamorphoses.
If your experiences have been painful
And drinking them has been bitter, turn them into wine.
In this night of excess,
be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,
And become the meaning of this strange conjoining.
And if the world has ceased to hear you,
say to the silent Earth: I flow.
To the rushing water, speak: I am.
As I write this, I feel so glad for all that I have and how my life is unfolding. Each day I wake up with a gentle knowing that everything is as it’s supposed to be. There’s a deep serenity that comes with not wanting life to be any other way than it is. I feel like there is much to learn on this path and simultaneously, I’m complete just as I am. A playful pairing of destiny and acceptance.
“Quiet friend who has come so far, sense how your breath expands space.” Could Rilke be speaking of the immanency of God? Abundance surrounds us. I’m learning that awakening has less to do with seeking or feeling pleasure and more to do with surrendering to all experience with an open heart.
“…be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses, and become the meaning of this strange conjoining.” Mystics who see from Oneness help us find our way back to our true essence. My life is graced with a teacher whose appearance is all God’s doing. One day or a lifetime, this relationship is sacred. I recognize other Soul kin too. We’re never alone.
“And if the world has ceased to hear you, say to the silent Earth: I flow. To the rushing water, speak: I am.” How lovely…