It just happens like this sometimes. You wake up to a day like any other, go out for a walk like any other, and the day, for some reason or none at all, comes right up close to meet you; unveils itself, reveals itself in grass, sky and woodsmoke. One butterfly. At such times you understand how Rilke could come to an utterance such as
"Earth, is it not just this that you want: to arise
invisibly in us? Is not your dream
to be one day invisible? Earth! invisible!
What is your urgent command, if not transformation?
Earth, you darling, I will! Oh, believe me, you need
no more of your spring-times to win me over: a single one,
ah, one, is already more than my blood can endure.
Beyond all names I am yours, and have been for ages.
You were always right, and your holiest inspiration
is Death, that friendly Death.
Look, I am living. On what? Neither childhood nor future
are growing less.... Supernumerous existence
wells up in my heart."
Sorry folks, but I'm even going to put up a youtube thing. I know, I know. But this is how it feels. I can't be rock and roll ALL the time.