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old man in act iv

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Pain continues to inform my worldview. We have a tentative diagnosis, but no treatment plan or prognosis. Opiates make me dizzy and unable to operate heavy machinery. Intensity of pain falls between 8 and 9 on a scale of 10. Brandishing a fake-metal walking stick ($29,99), I audition for the part of Old Man in Act IV. Everything seems far away and out of focus.

You, Beloved, who are all
the gardens I have ever gazed at,
longing. 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 had vanished.
. . .
Who knows? perhaps the same
bird echoed through both of us
yesterday, separate, in the evening . . .

source: The selected poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke. (1982).  Translated by Stephen Mitchell. New York: Random House, p. 131.

3 responses »

  1. ajb has an interesting perspective – all that you need to let go – perhaps lie on the floor and watch it leave?

    i think that our bodies do reflect our lives – perhaps lie still and wait.

    J O”D writes
    “…may memory bless and protect you
    with the hard-earned light of past travail
    to remind you that you have survived before
    and though the darkness is now deep
    you will soon see approaching light.
    May the grace of time heal your woiunds.”

    blessings to you p… my thoughts are with you

  2. At the depth of your excruciating experience, you manage to continue to give, thoughts, poetry, amazing pictures.
    May you receive our gratitude back, and may it help alleviate your ordeal.


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