The Book of Hours

I.

O Wing, where is your power, bravely setting me free on whatever day? O Heart: and when night has come, don’t swallow me away in the dark. Free my heart… So many years, yet all I see is your grain, its total sum alone refusing me clear. I am too frail; within myself I ought in my stillness. I trust its doors always.

• Rainer Maria Rilke