My favorite Rilke poems (all of them??) begin one place and journey somewhere unexpected.
Going Blind is my favorite — so powerful, beautiful.
Loss, shame, disability turned into weighless beauty.
Teacups to opera to flight.
To those who don’t belong, who don’t fit, who fight silent battles, may this be your story.
May joy fill your blind eyes.
May your weakness, your humanity, be your strength.
May you — in solitude, pain, loss — find not only loneliness but transcendence.
Going Blind
She sat just like the others at the table.
But on second glance,
she seemed to hold her cup a little differently as she picked it up.
She smiled once.
It was almost painful.
And when they finished and it was time to stand and slowly,
as chance selected them,
they left and moved through many rooms (they talked and laughed),
I saw her.
She was moving far behind the others,
absorbed,
like someone who will soon have to sing before a large assembly;
upon her eyes, which were radiant with joy,
light played as on the surface of a pool.
She followed slowly,
taking a long time,
as though there were some obstacle in the way;
and yet: as though, once it was overcome,
she would be beyond all walking,
and would fly.
