ENTRANCE
Whoever you are: step
out into the evening
out of your living room,
where everything is so known;
your house stands as
the last thing before great space:
Whoever you are.
With your eyes, which
in their fatigue can just barely
free themselves from
the worn-out thresholds,
very slowly, lift a single
black tree
and place it against
the sky, slender and alone.
With this you have made
the world. And it is large
and like a word that
is still ripeninely, in silence.
And, just as your will
grasps their meaning,
they in turn will let
go, delicately, of your eyes...
--Rilke
