You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.
Flare up like a flame
and make big shadows I can move in.
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don’t let yourself lose me.
Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.
Give me your hand.
Poem from The Book of Hours, Rilke
(Translated by Anita Burrows and Joanna Macy)
Images from Glasgow Botanic Gardens – Kibble Palace and Main Range Glasshouses
Botanical 
Beautiful, thank you. Joanna Macy’s here (at Findhorn) next week, hope to see her, she’s so inspiring.