This reminds me of the poem Moving Forward by Rilke, particularly this:
With my senses, as with birds, I climb
into the windy heaven, out of the oak,
in the ponds broken off from the sky
my falling sinks, as if standing on fishes.
This reminds me of the poem Moving Forward by Rilke, particularly this:
With my senses, as with birds, I climb
into the windy heaven, out of the oak,
in the ponds broken off from the sky
my falling sinks, as if standing on fishes.
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