If I had grown in some generous place-

if my hours had opened with ease-

I would make you a lavish banquet.

My hands wouldn't clutch at you like this,

so needy and tight.

Then I'd have dared to squander you,

you Limitless Now.

I'd have tossed you into the ringing air

like a ball that someone leaps for and catches

with hands outstretched.

I would have painted you:  not on the wall

but in one broad sweep across heaven.

I'd have portrayed you brashly:

as mountain, as fire, as a wind

howling from the desert's vastness.

-Rainer Maria Rilke