Your Favorite Poems

[Fancy]

My eyes already touch the sunny hill,

going far ahead of the road I have begun.

So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;

It has its inner light even from a distance-

And changes us, even if we do not reach it,

into something else, which hardly sensing it,

we already are;

A gesture waves us on, answering our own

wave…

but what we feel is the wind in our faces.

— Rainer Marie Rilke