What Survives

Who says that all must vanish?

Who knows, perhaps the flight

of the bird you wound remains,

and perhaps flowers survive

caresses in us, in their ground.

It isn't the gesture that lasts,

but it dresses you again in gold

armor —from breast to knees—

and the battle was so pure

an Angel wears it after you.

~Rainer Maria Rilke

The Academy of European Arts and Culture