We are all falling.

Autumn

As if from afar, leaves fall, fall,
like from distant fading gardens in the sky;
falling with a rejecting motion.

And at night, heavy earth falls again,
falling from the stars into solitude.

We all fall, even this hand here.
Look, the other: simply everything falls.

And yet there is Someone who holds all these falls
in his hand, immensely gently.

(Rainer Maria Rilke /1875–1926/,
translated by Lumír Čivrný)