So beautiful up there, looking down on our city, and across the inlet to Sleeping Lady.
A poem for you:
Sunset, by Rainer Maria Rilke
Slowly the west reaches for clothes of new colors
which it passes to a row of ancient trees.
You look, and soon these two worlds both leave you.
One part climbs toward heaven, one sinks to earth.
Leaving you, not really belonging to either:
not so helplessly dark as that house that is silent,
not so unswervingly given to the eternal as that thing
that turns to a star each night and climbs.
Leaving you, your own life – timid and standing high and growing;
So that, sometimes blocked in, and sometimes reaching out,
one moment your life is a stone in you, and the next…a star.
