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185 :: Quiet Work | by zanekathryne
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185 :: Quiet Work

My sanctuary.

With roses.


Wild Rosebush


How it stands out against the darkenings

of the rainy evening, young and pure,

its tendrils arched everywhere in givingness

yet absorbed in its own rose-being;


the shallow flowers, already open here and there,

each unasked for and untended:

thus, immeasurably exceeded by itself

and indescribably self-aroused,


it calls to the wander, who in his evening

meditating comes past along the road:

Oh look at me, see, over here, how safe I am

and unprotected and having all I need.


— Rainer Maria Rilke



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Taken on July 8, 2018