Whom should I turn to,
if not the one whose darkness
is darker than night, the only one
who keeps vigil with no candle,
and is not afraid—
the deep one, whose being I trust,
for it breaks through the earth into trees
when I bow my head,
faint as a fragrance
from the soil.
-Rilke, from Book of Hours: Love Poems to God
** For the season of Advent I am posting a reflection each Sunday on a theme from the lectionary readings and then during the week offering a poem each day to highlight that theme — see this past Sunday here **
Such lovely comments! Great poem kigen. I am delighted the poetry is speaking to each of you. For me, Rilke is the Patron Saint of Holy Darkness, he has such a beautiful way of describing it again and again in different ways.
your poetry and reflections are so rich and quite fragrant!
In response, Walt Whitman:
Come said the muse,
Sing me a song no poet has yet chanted.
Sing me the universal.
In this broad earth of ours,
Amid the measureless grossness and the slag,
Enclosed and safe within its central heart,
Nestles the seed of perfection.
By every life a share or more or less,
None born but it is born, conceal’d or unconceal’d the seed is.
I loved this. It speaks so well to where I am spiritually right now.
“Faint as a fragrance from the soil” – beautiful, and somehow very fragile.