! ! Reaching For The Dictionary

That efficient movement of the arm – let it be without impatience, watched, aware, even graceful – does not feature in a ballet, or a film; although it could; unlikely to be described in a novel; and as for poetry… no poem yet, no ode yet owed, to that word-hoard with which, indirectly, poets live and breathe and share their being… but when the moment comes, is seen to come – how beautiful that movement, full of assurance, of anticipation of what this may yield… for lovely though the world of that poetic imprecision which teases the reading, writing mind, plays with the emotions, releases the imagination like a glorious balloon… it’s now the moment to look down from the basket of the balloon soaring so gently over green fields and earth, and look for landmarks for a clear descent.. sometimes, it’s those geeky, Greeky words like metempsychosis or synecdoche, ontological, epistemological… sometimes, those simple words like soul, or self… the pages thumbed over – the choice of paper, so thin, so strong, just right, itself brings an intelligent respect – aah, that’s what it really means… a moment of treasured satisfaction; the mind a little clearer now; the heart perhaps, may know its warmth in later, wiser ways; actions, too, may (if we ever notice) be subtly altered, as the flutter of the butterfly’s frail, strong wings in some Amazonian rain-forest, is sometimes said to be felt throughout the world… universal mind may breathe a gentle sigh; language itself, allow a passing smile; there’s order in the world; harmony is heard in music beyond words; the arm and hand, now so graceful, reassured; the beauty of the mind so quickly registered that it may escape; a gratitude perhaps as quick as eye-blink, and as unobserved - the arm and hand replace the dictionary there upon the shelf.