Not the sad face of sadness; <br />not its weariness, nor its lack of hope; <br />but why sadness visits, and what it intends: <br />what the secret blessings that it brings… <br /> <br />not the quick whims of hope or faith, <br />that last so briefly, then are gone: <br />but where they truly come from; <br />where they rest eternal in the heart: <br />explain themselves in their own worldly ways; <br /> <br />not even that love that comes and shines and passes; <br />no, none of these – and all of these: <br />masked, they come and knock upon the door; <br />friends, that come to tease, to test, to heal.. <br />open the door to them; <br />now, before they knock..<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/friends-in-disguise-to-rilke/
