Slowly the west reaches for clothes of new colors <br />which it passes to a row of ancient trees. <br />You look, and soon these two worlds both leave you <br />one part climbs toward heaven, one sinks to earth. <br /> <br />leaving you, not really belonging to either, <br />not so hopelessly dark as that house that is silent, <br />not so unswervingly given to the eternal as that thing <br />that turns to a star each night and climbs- <br /> <br />leaving you (it is impossible to untangle the threads) <br />your own life, timid and standing high and growing, <br />so that, sometimes blocked in, sometimes reaching out, <br />one moment your life is a stone in you, and the next, a star.<br /><br />Rainer Maria Rilke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sunset-2/
