I woke up sad this morning.
I had a bad dream.
Since I've come home it's been hard,
I feel the grossness of it all in my throat.
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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 the limits of your longing. Embody me. Flare up like flame and make big shadows I can move in. Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror, Just keep going. No feeling is final. Don't let yourself lose me. Nearby is the country they call life. You will know it by its seriousness. Give me your hand. Rilke
2 comments:
what was the dream? what was it?! i will interpret.
i will tell you about it in person it's bizarre
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