God, give us each our own death,
the dying that proceeds
from each of our lives:
the way we loved,
the meanings we made,
our need.
III,6
For we are only the rind and the leaf,
The great death, that each of us carries inside,
is the fruit.
Everything enfolds it.
III,7
~ Rainer Maria Rilke
The Book of Poverty and Death
translated by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows
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