In Celebration of the Fall

I came across this wonderful poem by my new favorite poet, Rainer Maria Rilke.  It’s from The Book of Images.  I hope you enjoy it.  It’s not just an ode to fall, but falling.  We all fall at one point or another, but I think it’s what we do afterwards that has the most meaning.  Next time you fall, what will you do?


The leaves are falling, falling as from far,
as though above were withering farthest gardens;
they fall with a denying attitude.
And night by night, down into solitude,
the heavy earth falls far from every star.
We are all falling. This hand’s falling too–
all have this falling-sickness none withstands.
And yet there’s One whose gently-holding hands
this universal falling can’t fall through.