The Departure of the Prodigal Son

Collage by Cindy Wood, www. cindywoodart.com.
Used with permission.

Now to walk away from all this entanglement
that is ours and yet does not belong to us,
that, like the water in an old well,
reflects us trembling and distorts who we are;
that hooks us again and again, like thorns - to walk away
from this to that
we long ago stopped seeing
(so commonplace were they, and so familiar)
then to look back once and realize at last - tender, forgiving;
as if for the first time, so close - to realize
how impersonal is the suffering that comes to all of us
that fills childhood to the brim:
And then to walk away, rending hand from hand
as if to re-open a wound,
and walk away:  where?  Into the unknown,
far into an unfamiliar, warm country,
that, whatever happens, remains indifferent
as a backdrop:  a garden or a wall;
and walk away:  why?  From mission, from zeal,
impatience, dark expectation;
from not knowing and not being known:

To take on all this, to let go all hope
to let fall whatever you may still be holding onto, perhaps
to die alone, not knowing why - 

Is this the opening to a new life?

​     - Rainer Maria Rilke, trans. Kim Rosen

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