The Exquisite Web

One of the best things about this web is that before going to bed, as I am about to do, I can type the words "rilke poems" into goggle and end on this note:

The Wait

It is life in slow motion,
it's the heart in reverse,
it's a hope-and-a-half:
too much and too little at once.

It's a train that suddenly
stops with no station around,
and we can hear the cricket,
and, leaning out the carriage

door, we vainly contemplate
a wind we feel that stirs
the blooming meadows, the meadows
made imaginary by this stop.

Rainer Maria Rilke
Translated by A. Poulin