Yet, no matter how deeply I go down into myself, my God is dark, and like a webbing made of a hundred roots that drink in silence.

Rilke frames the search for God as an inward descent that does not yield clarity but a profound, fertile obscurity. “Dark” here suggests not evil but the ungraspable depth of the divine—something that resists intellectual illumination. The image of a “webbing made of a hundred roots” evokes a living, subterranean network: faith as an organic, many-stranded attachment to what nourishes the soul, drawing sustenance “in silence” rather than through proofs or proclamations. The line thus valorizes quiet, patient receptivity and acknowledges that the deepest spiritual realities may be encountered as mystery—felt as interconnected life beneath consciousness rather than as a single, definable object of knowledge.