"What is it to understand a thing, anything?"
asked the darling daughter of the dreamer of dreams.
"To understand a thing, anything," came the reply,
"is to know that all that there is will be but assayed
and understood in incremental mode...
"At the best of times, we but capture a measure of
a thing, anything, as per the postulate now put forward...
"The picture only grows clear when the glass is thin enough
to be shattered, also devoid of matter that might impede
the light. Say, perchance you looked into a mirror, depending
on the slant of light, your distance from the glass, even
the quality of your eyesight, this would all be pertinent to
that which you came to apprehend...
"To look upon leaves in the summer and then again in the fall
is to see leaves transformed, which might be a given, but
to grasp the process by which the photosynthesis, this would
necessitate a particular knowledge of science.
"The rain, the snow, the wind that blows, all these things
can be decoded and de-cyphered, but each only in due time.
And, a thing, anything, that can be broken down and understood
will always and forever be but an opening into a broader world
still...a thing, anything but something en route to everything,
which none ever attains or apprehends..."
After a brief silence, the darling daughter of the dreamer
of dreams, smiled, lowered her eyes, then spoke, saying
she had need to walk in the wilderness, need to stare
at leaves (in season), feel the wind upon her skin and then
see how much she understood of a thing, anything, by
chance to uncover the newness of something, if to never
hope for the everything.
As for the dreamer of dreams, his journey was, in effect,
no more advanced than that of his darling daughter who,
this day, had truly been something.
Dec. 6, 2014