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In Krista's recent newsletter, something to take into my garden this weekend, and beyond.
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 to 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's Book of Hours, I, 59
then walks with us silently out of the night.
These are the words we dimly hear:
You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to 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's Book of Hours, I, 59
Translated by Joanna Macy & Anita Barrows.
Via most recent enewsletter from Krista Tippett.
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Garden & Be Well, XO Tara
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Pic from inside my home, across the Natchez Terrace to my new Conservatory.
I do my best praying in the garden. It is my church.
ReplyDeleteLovely post, my friend.
Love that Tara... :)
ReplyDeleteBeautiful...the poem and the view.
ReplyDeletexo J~
I love hard work that makes me sweat too. Your conservatory is beautiful.
ReplyDeletexo, Rosemary
Thanks for the comment this Sunday, I think I needed someone to concur with me! My issues seem so small in the scheme of things some days.....
ReplyDeleteL.