Sunday, April 17, 2022

Poem: “Consolation of Mary with Christ Arisen” by Rainer Maria Rilke

What they felt then: is it not
before all secrets sweet and yet still earthly:
as he, a little pale still from the grave,
relieved stepped up to her:
at every point arisen.
O to her first. How were they then
Inexpressibly being healed.
Yes, they were healing, that was it. They had no need
firmly to touch each other.
He laid for a second
scarcely his soon to be
eternal hand to her womanly shoulder.
And they began,
still as trees in Spring,
infinitely together,
this season of their ultimate communing.

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