Sunday, October 22, 2006

 

Buddha in Glory by Rainer Maria Rilke


Center of all centers, core of cores
almond self-enclosed and growing sweet--
all this universe, to the furthest stars
and beyond them, is your flesh, your fruit.

Now you feel how nothing clings to you;
your vast shell reaches into endless space,
and there the rich, thick fluids rise and flow.
Illuminated in your infinite peace,

a billion stars go spinning through the night,
blazing high above your head.
But IN you is the presence that
will be, when all the stars are dead.



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