It's always a treat to settle into these poems and his comments. Different cords and chords are struck each time.
Today I am with these words of Rilke:
Like so many other things, people have also misunderstood the position love has in life; they have made it into play and pleasure because they thought that play and pleasure are more blissful than work; but there is nothing happier than work, and love, precisely because it is the supreme happiness, can be nothing other than work.
And from another letter of Rilke:
It is also good to love: because love is difficult. For one human being to love another human being: that is perhaps the most difficult task that has been entrusted to us, the ultimate task, the final test and proof, the work for which all other work is merely preparation.
What calls to each of us as summer begins? Birds are singing and plants are open to bloom and fruit. The air is sweet. What calls?