through massive rock

It feels as though I make my own way

through massive rock

like a vein of ore

alone, encased.

I am so deep inside it

I can't see the path or any distance:

everything is close

and everything closing in on me

has turned to stone.

Since I still don't know enough about pain,

this terrible darkness makes me small,

If it's you, though—

press down hard on me, break in

that I may know the weight of your hand

and you, the fullness of my cry.

~ Rainer Maria Rilke

from The Book of Poverty and Death III, 1

photo by eliot porter