October 9, 2011

We Stand in Your Garden

Bend in the Forest Road

Lord, we are more wretched than the animals
who do their deaths once and for all,
for we are never finished with our not dying.

Dying is strange and hard
if it is not our death, but a death
that takes us by storm, when we've ripened none within us.

We stand in your garden year after year.
We are trees for yielding a sweet death.
But fearful, we wither before the harvest.

The Book of Hours III; 8

3 comments:

  1. "for we are never finished with our not dying."

    Wow. What a perfect description of humanity. Always attempting to delay the inevitable, and yet we fill the moments we gain through that artificial delay with the meaningless and inane.

    Excellent piece. =3

    - Nick

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  2. Really interesting thoughts Nick. So true.
    This is a wonderful blog - art and poetry together! Thanks for creating an inspiring well for artists like me to come to for water. :o)

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  3. The last three lines are particularly powerful! And the painting... well, I just love Cezanne. Rilke truly pondered death, didn't he - hopefully it made his life more fulfilling.

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"Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night."

~ Rainer Maria Rilke

Go ahead, bloom recklessly!