This little one looks like she is very ready.  But waiting. Oh-so-patiently waiting.  I am reading, once again,  “Letters to a Young Poet.”  Below is a quote from page 26 that sits with me each time.  I am endeared by the young poet’s anxiety towards life, and in awe of the gladness and confidence with which Rilke writes.  What a standard he sets forth! I think I read this book so much because I so want to take it to heart. 

“Being an artist means, not reckoning and counting, but ripening like the tree which does not force its sap and stands confident in the storms of spring without the fear that after them may come no summer. It does come.  But it comes only to the patient, who are there as though eternity lay before them so unconcernedly still and wide. I learn it daily, learn it with pain to which I am grateful, patience is everything.”   -Rilke

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