Sunday, April 30, 2023

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 on her womanly shoulder.

And they began,

still as the trees in Spring,

infinitely together,

this season

of their ultimate communing.

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