I read it because it was
her favorite.
I loved it with it's
familiarity-
like a grandmother's couch-
familiarity with it's
emotions
familiarity within the child.
A child so familiar to those from
Bedknobs and Broomsticks and Lion's Wardrobes
so familiar in children's fantasies
and so familiar with perfect
memories.
memories underneath trees with dappled sunlight
memories of gentle touch and wrinkled noses
and timid glances
so familiar, that inability to leave
to let that story go
so familiar in the happiness of having felt
that love
so familiar to never let that
love go.
From "Letters to a Young Poet," Letter IV, Rainer Maria Rilke
ReplyDelete". . . love your solitude and bear the pain which it has caused you with fair sounding lament. For those that are near you are far, you say, and this shews that distance begins to grow round you. And when your nearness is far, then your distance is already among the stars and very great; be glad of your growing, into which you can take no one else with you, and be good to those that remain behind, and be self-possessed and quiet with them and do not torment them with your doubts and do not frighten them with your confidence or joy, which they could not comprehend . . . love life in a strange guise in them . . . believe in a love that is preserved for you like a heritage, and trust that in this love there is a strength and a blessing which you are not bound to leave behind you though you may travel far!" pp. 23 -24