Magic of Meaning
'Meaning-making' happens at the expense of implicit meaning - meaning which is already present in a poem, in a painting, a film, a novel etc. Subtle or pronounced, it shall come upon you in its own way, in its own time - all you have to do is to be there, be aware, be naked, listening, watching, receptive. It shall often ferry you to the realm of silence, through the landscape of your own self.
You can't make anything out of this import, so light yet so charged it is! and solid like a tree laden with fruit! You shall fail to 'capture' this significance. Your words shall repudiate you, your tongue shall misstate you.
'Let me explain more, let me illustrate further,' you may think. But that never was the issue. You tried to express the inexpressible. You didn't leave room for silence and surprises, you didn't let the snorts and sighs and tears and laughter take over.. you didn't let the enchantment work.
Who asked you to take the entire burden on your shoulders?
You had only to prepare the soil, and wait - not anticipate, simply wait, and live. Nobody asked you to become a seed! The poem, the art, the phenomenon, the work was the seed. You were only to prepare the ground - the ground that you are. Your very own being.
The poem, the art, the phenomenon, the work is the seed. Meaning is the blossoming.
It is denied to insensitive hearts - they deny it to themselves.
That's perhaps why the car won't come when Inez, Gil Pender's fiancée, waits along. She is too self-sure, unwilling to seem foolish, unwilling to be vulnerable.
The magic of meaning politely closes itself on a struggling, impatient mind.
You can't make anything out of this import, so light yet so charged it is! and solid like a tree laden with fruit! You shall fail to 'capture' this significance. Your words shall repudiate you, your tongue shall misstate you.
'Let me explain more, let me illustrate further,' you may think. But that never was the issue. You tried to express the inexpressible. You didn't leave room for silence and surprises, you didn't let the snorts and sighs and tears and laughter take over.. you didn't let the enchantment work.
Who asked you to take the entire burden on your shoulders?
You had only to prepare the soil, and wait - not anticipate, simply wait, and live. Nobody asked you to become a seed! The poem, the art, the phenomenon, the work was the seed. You were only to prepare the ground - the ground that you are. Your very own being.
The poem, the art, the phenomenon, the work is the seed. Meaning is the blossoming.
It is denied to insensitive hearts - they deny it to themselves.
That's perhaps why the car won't come when Inez, Gil Pender's fiancée, waits along. She is too self-sure, unwilling to seem foolish, unwilling to be vulnerable.
The magic of meaning politely closes itself on a struggling, impatient mind.