Sense of Something
I am like a flag in the center of open space.
I sense ahead the wind which is coming, and must live
while the things of the world still do not move:
the doors still close softly, and the chimneys are full
the windows do not rattle yet, and the dust still lies down.
I already know the storm, and I am troubled as the sea.
I leap out, and fall back,
and throw myself out, and am absolutely alone
in the great storm.
Translated by Robert Bly
Rainer Maria Rilke