Wherever you may be: Step into the evening
Step out of the room where everything is known.
Whoever you are,
Your house is the last before the far off.
With your eyes, which are almost too tired
To free themselves from the familiar,
You slowly take one black tree
And set it against the sky: slender, alone.
And you have made a world.
It is big
And like a word, still ripening in silence.
And though your mind would fabricate its meaning,
Your eyes tenderly let go of what they see.
– Rainer Maria Rilke, “Entering”