There is a point when the question becomes
"What is it I cannot see?" Analysis of this question
usually veers toward the word curiosity, or discovery, or learning, or a
teacher's rod. Or any one of those many things that have poured into
the thing that is me. But I don't mean the question in that
I imagine a mocking bird, still on a clear night,
looking up at the stars. I imagine a chimpanzee staring at a person
through the bars of his cage. I imagine a grasshopper making his decision
to fly. I imagine such things and then I ask, "What is it I cannot
see?" Generally the answer is daunting in its magnitude.
Then, sometimes there is a wraith that flits bat-like
through those caverns that lead to mind. It hovers on the edge of
perception. A pink elephant in some circles. An angel in
others. Mostly though it is an idea without words, a pure thing.
And sometimes an angry thing.