Rainer Maria Rilke’s “Day in Autumn” – being read amidst an even later season of life

I recently posted another meme. Above the high-tide explosion of waves against the golden-hour stones of Asilomar Beach, it reads, “Hope less. Live more.” I am at the stage in life (and, truthfully, I have been so for longer than I would care to admit) in which the list of what I once planned to accomplish, what I once imagined I would have time to accomplish, is shortened more and more by the cumulative effects of old injuries, gradual infirmities, and surprising indignities.

Although my spiritual traditions include “the sure and certain hope of the resurrection,” my life today, in the meantime, has become very different than I imagined it would be. But while I could choose to grieve and mourn past abilities passed, or seek some future restoration or renewal, I now cannot live any other day but this one. I cannot surround myself with any other group, team, or family than those now here.

This Fall-ing of life, when we recognize that some things will now always be what they are, how they are, where they are, and with whom they are—is what I think the Austrian poet Rainer Maria Rilke was getting at in his poem “Day in Autumn.” (Translated by Mary Kinzie.)

After the summer's yield, Lord, it is time

to let your shadow lengthen on the sundials

and in the pastures let the rough winds fly.

 

As for the final fruits, coax them to roundness.

Direct on them two days of warmer light

to hale them golden toward their term, and harry

the last few drops of sweetness through the wine.

 

Whoever's homeless now, will build no shelter;

who lives alone will live indefinitely so,

waking up to read a little, draft long letters,  

and, along the city's avenues,

fitfully wander, when the wild leaves loosen.

Whatever fruits, however sweet, you have yet to bear; whatever falling and fallen leaves may swirl around you already; and whatever signs and symptoms of encroaching decrepitude you find afflicting you; may you also find the courage, the tenacity, and the joy necessary to live the day you have today.