Shining in the distance

Already my gaze is upon the hill, the sunlit one.

The way to it, barely begun, lies ahead.

So we are grasped by what we have not grasped,

full of promise, shining in the distance.

Simple mountains  1











It changes us, even if we do not reach it,

into something we barely sense, but are;

a movement beckons, answering our movement….

But we just feel the wind against us.

For Rosalinda,
and for me.
A page turning;
always beginning now

Rainer Maria Rilke, Uncollected Poems

Translation: Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy
From A Year With Rilke

Painting: Aletha Kuschan

About Jim

Night sky watcher; a mobile bit of earth's body. One foot lingering in Lower Cañoncito's piñon-juniper foothills at the southern tip of the Rockies, the edge of the Great Plains stretching away from the mouth of our little valley a couple miles downstream. The other foot re-rooting into the Land of the White Pines, home of my blood and bones, amidst the coastal plain and glacial hills and ponds of southern Maine, between the North Atlantic and the bones of the ancient Appalachian Mountains.

Posted on 2012/04/04, in Nourishing Words. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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