It was meaning

Where do I want meaning

to take me?

It seems I am unavoidably along

for the ride.

Well I know

I don’t really want certitude,

that feels so custodial

and static in a storage way.

For me, there is no comfort

amongst pillars of reference.

Maybe I really want to go

to the edge of knowing,

like how would you know

if you knew, kind of place.

Maybe I want to look

into the fabric of knowledge.

No I don’t mean to look

at its job or posture

but look at its being,

where it exists beyond

where words have been formed.

Where we meet without

formal referenced introduction,

just beyond the reach of grasp

where grasp is exposed

as being one-sided.

Where whatever, lets me in

to be there

in the whirl

without intrusion on my part,

and without the distraction

of relatedness as my first task.

I want to meet where

the security of permission

is never the first question,

where we are present

with no solutions

in sight of mindful attention.

I want to be just there,

where the illusion of meaning

brought me

but does not now bother me

with accountability nor surmise.

I want to be just there,

way beyond the purposeful ride.

Where we are scintillating.

And when I recover,

I will always remember,

it was the technique of meaning

who took me there.

It was meaning

who took me to there

in a safeguarded way

but also let me be,

just be . . .