A life of one's choosing

From the Book of Hours: 

I am too alone in the world, and yet not alone enough

to make every hour holy.

I am too small in the world, and yet not tiny enough

just to stand before you like a thing,

dark and shrewd.

I want my will, and I want to be with my will

as it moves towards deed;

and in those quiet, somehow hesitating times,

when something is approaching,

I want to be with those who are wise 

or else alone.

I want always to be a mirror that reflects your whole being,

and never to be too blind or too old 

to hold your heavy, swaying image.

I want to unfold.

Nowhere do I want to remain folded,

because where I am bent and folded, there I am lie.

And I want my meaning

true for you. I want to describe myself

like a painting that I studied

closely for a long, long time,

like a word I finally understood,

like the pitcher of water I use every day ,

like the face of my mother,

like a ship

that carried me

through the deadliest storm of all.

Rainer Maria Rilke

*Italics, mine.