Reading Rilke’s Book of Hours Upon Awakening During an Early Morning Freeze

Your poetry begets music, but only to the poor. The poor hear each note of hunger upon their wanderings; whether city, or fields, or highways off the desert roads, the poor shall always hear these tattered tunes laying threadbare, frayed at the heel of existence. Your Russian journeys lead you to God, unbeknownst, an intimate … Continue reading Reading Rilke’s Book of Hours Upon Awakening During an Early Morning Freeze