Robert Saxton
Gentle Souls
after Rilke, `, I, iv
Gentle souls, walk with me sometimes through
the breath of strangers, which parts like rain,
tremblingly brushes your cheeks, then behind you
with a parting tremble joins together again.
Strong, compassionate ones who reach the plateau
of the heart's new capital, settle here, mark
how your arrows love the bull's-eye and the bow,
how tears extend your eyesight through the dark.
Don't be afraid to suffer. Learn to give back
heaviness to the dead weight of the Earth,
its mountains and seas, nothingness to the black
hole inside the Earth's core.Though all the trees
you planted as children now have the girth
of monsters, still there are spaces ... and the breeze.
Page(s) 31
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