If only once

If only once it were still. 
If the “not quite right” and the “why this”
Could be muted, and the neighbor’s laughter,
And the static my senses make–
If all of it didn’t keep me from coming awake–

Then in one vast thousandfold thought
I could think you up to where thinking ends.

I could possess you,
Even for the brevity of a smile,
To offer you
To all that lives,
In gladness.

Rilke’s Book of Hours

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