Open Portal

But you now, you whom I knew like a flower whose name
I don’t know, I will once more remember and show you
To them, you who were taken away,
Beautiful playmate of the invincible cry.

Dancer first, who suddenly, with body full of lingering,
Paused, as though her youngness were being cast in bronze;
Mourning and listening, then from the high achievers
Music fell into her altered heart.

Sickness was near. Already overcome by the shadows,
Her blood pulsed more darkly, yet as if fleetingly
Suspect, it thrust forth into its natural spring.

Again and again, interrupted by darkness and downfall,
It gleamed of the earth. Until after terrible throbbing
It entered the hopelessly open portal.

Rilke, from his Sonnets to Orpheus, touches on a sense that we all experience in this physical dimension. Separation from we know not what overshadows us, and we desperately try to discover this pulsating urge through religion, science and several other beliefs that are embedded in our objective consciousness. Trying to identify this playmate that alters reality with whispers and perceptions is a life long task for some, and a pre-conceived notion for others. Rilke refers to it as something beyond this self that wanders through physical life, but as he continues to write about it, he senses how close it is to him. In fact, it is him.