Always I go from gate to gate,/ rained on, scorched by the sun;/ suddenly I press my right ear/ into my right hand./ And now my own voice comes to me/ as if I'd never known it.
R.M.Rilke, The Beggar's Song
It was a gate to the "new" I have stumbled into. New world, new faces, new sights and sounds, new tounge unfolding, new flavors bursting, new relationships unraveling...a new me emerging.
"A new heaven and a new earth" said our Lord in the second reading of yesterday's Eucharist. And Rilke couldn't possibly be more precise in saying: "suddenly I press my right ear into my right hand./ And now my own voice comes to me/ as if I'd never known it." I didn't only do it with my right ear and hand. I dunked my entire face into my cupped hands in humble recognition of the newness of it all.
I am the beggar now at the gates of my Father's house. But mercifully, I need not even knock. He already rushed to meet me halfway...
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