You, Beloved, who are all
the gardens I have ever gazed at,
An open window
in a country house-,
and you almost
stepped out, pensive, to meet me.
Streets that I chanced upon,—
you had just walked down them and vanished.
And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors
were still dizzy with your presence and,
gave back my too-sudden image.
Perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us
yesterday, separate, in the evening...
~Rainer Maria Rilke
~art by Kelly Vivanco