Autumn by Rainer Maria Rilke

 

                                                      The leaves are falling, falling as if from far up,
                                                as if orchards were dying high in space.                            
                                                Each leaf falls as if it were motioning "no."

                                               And tonight the heavy earth is falling
                                               away from all other stars in the loneliness.

                                               We're all falling. This hand here is falling.
                                              And look at the other one. It's in them all.

                                              And yet there is Someone, whose hands
                                              infinitely calm, holding up all this falling.
                                       
                                        Rainer Maria Rilke 

  Ah, the blissful comfort

                                              of being safely cradled

in Somone's hands.

(This poem was sent to me by a young woman who teaches me through her old soul eyes of innocence, her yearning for answers with a questioning heart, and her euphoric laughter.  Her joyful spirit is sacred company on my too often lonely path.)