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To Rilke...

You must change your life,

the poet said.

But into what, I wondered?

and how?

I want to be moved,

rattled at the foundation

torn splinters in my being

until what is left

is all that matters.

Is it love?

or beauty?

the rush of fear?

or the high of substance?

remembering, discovering, forgetting.

I wander about the corridors

of my memory

searching for something constant.

And I think it is this,

this longing to stumble upon something

essential, or pure, or true,

something that is both real and tangible

and something that must be suspended in faith.

I have traveled in circles,

Going, coming.

Seeking, finding.

It seems it’s never enough.

But should it be?

What is enough?

Enough growth.

Enough magic.

Enough peace.

Perhaps I am ok with wanting more,

with living constantly on the brink of the end,

the precipice of beginning.

And so someday,

To some young aspiring poet, so too, shall I

turn and say,

You must change your life.

And you must change it daily.

© Micah Stover 2009