Happy graduation to everyone out there finishing up. It's been one celebration after the next around here with more to come. This blurry image of space and land and sky seems about how events are striking my inner clock that, bless its heart, tries to keep time. Things feel beautifully rich and slightly weird. Just how it is that my son is graduating from college remains a mystery. Whooooosh. Whoooosh, and more whoooosh. Can you make out the train track stretching from the pace?
But enough with my metaphors that inevitably rear their rhapsodic heads at times like these. Here are the metaphors that came to Rainer Maria Rilke when he wrote:
Whoever Grasps
Whoever grasps the thousand contradictions of his life,
pulls them together into a single image, that man, joyful
and thankful, drives the rioters out of the palace,
becomes celebratory in a different way, and you are the guest
whom he receives on the quiet evenings.
You are the second person in his solitude,
the tranquil hub of his talking with himself;
and every circle he draws around you
lifts him out of time on those compass legs.
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