The elusive quest

The quest for the insight is what drives the researcher to the subject

The endless questions, as he probes and probes

The subject struggles to measure up to the researcher’s zeal

She tells him everything she knows

But the insight still remains elusive

If she had the insight, she wouldn’t have held it back from him

But then if she were aware of it, it isn’t really an insight

It’s just knowledge

This researcher has no use for knowledge

He is on a quest for the insight, however long it takes

He knows it might never come from her answers, but he has to question her neverthe less

He questions her, but often her answers just buzz past his ears

Her answers are the medium that carries the insight

He is listening to something more than what she says

Listening to the unsaid, sensing the unseen

Waiting for the insight to waft by

It can come from the moments of silence

Or a fleeting twitch of her eyebrows that can be forever missed

It can lie in the direction she tilts her neck as she mulls over an answer

Or just hang in the air between them

It might lie in the last word she utters as he gets ready to leave

Or in the way she turns away after the final goodbye

It might be something that happened in a moment that he recalls only much later

A moment that is like a soft gurgle amongst the rushing gush of his thoughts

The whisper that gets deeper as the thoughts are stilled

It was aways there

From the moment he first laid eyes on the subject

Like the leaves of the tree fluttering in the wind high above

It was always there

All it takes if for him to stop and look up

Look past the grey buildings and hanging wires

Look long enough to see the leaves shake and shiver

And if you can shut out the noise of the road

You can hear the leaves blowing in the wind

 

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