Moving Forward
by Rainer Maria Rilke

The deep parts of my life pour onward, as if the river shores were opening
out. It seems that things are more like me now, That I can see farther into
paintings. I feel closer to what language can't reach. With my senses, as with
birds, I climb into the windy heaven, out of the oak, in the ponds broken off
from the sky my falling sinks, as if standing on fishes.

I stole this poem from another website. I liked it and wanted to remember it.

Two weeks in and the fog, the anxiety, the black dog is back.