This alone do we know:
we are here and we will die.
To hear without responding
to stay in puzzlement
not rush to understand
abide in the unknowing of chaos:
power and creativity gather.
What is laid upon us
that must we bare, upset is optional.
Feelings are the unknowing of power:
from the unknowing of winter comes spring.
from deep saline waters of unknowing
comes the charge which drives life.
Anger, child of attachment
full of opinions
stays not long enough in the unknown
sees not what is going on.
also, a modified quote from Rilke, who shares
with me a somewhat adolescent fervor.
Spoken by God to each of us:
"Sent out beyond recall
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.
Flare up like flame
make big shadows I can move in.
Let everything happen to you:
beauty and terror.
Just keep going.
No feeling is final.
Donıt let yourself lose Me.
Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by itıs seriousness."
--Rilke | 
