what birds plunge through is not the intimate space in which you see all forms intensified. (out in the open, you would be denied your self, would disappear into that vastness.)
space reaches from us and construes the world: to know a tree, in its true element, throw inner space around it, from that pure abundance in you. surround it with restraint. it has no limits. not till it is held in your renouncing is it truly there.
rainer maria rilke - uncollected poems, 1922-1926 - translated by stephen mitchell
page 173
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