The Book of Pilgrimage (of Rilke's Book of Hours)
II, 15
All who seek you
Test you
And those who find you
Bind you to image and gesture.
I would rather sense you.
As the earth senses you.
In my ripening
Ripens
What you are.
I need from you no tricks
To prove you exist.
Time, I know,
Is other than you.
No miracles, please.
Just let your laws
Become clearer
From generation and generation.
-Rainer Marie Rilke
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