We had some wicked weather here over the weekend which not only took out our power but destroyed our modem. For 48 hours we were without phone or Internet - which held its own blessings and quiet - but also cut us off from friends and those we like to stay connected with.
So, now we are back and I am grateful for conscientious service people, women and men who know how to keep my world working and people with patience. In the solitude, however, I rediscovered this poem by Goethe that warrants sharing.
Tell a wise person, or else keep silent,
I praise what is truly alive,
What longs to be burned to death.
In the calm water of the love-nights,
Where you were begotten, where you have begotten,
A strange feeling comes over you
When you see the silent candle burning.
Now you are no longer caught
In the obsession with darkness,
And a desire for the higher love-making
Sweeps you upward.
Distance does not make you falter,
Now, arriving in magic, flying,
And, finally, insane for the light,
You are the butterfly and you are gone.
And so long as you haven't experienced
This: to die and so to grow,
You are only a troubled guest
On the dark earth.