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Mis-Matched Socks and a Towel on the Counter
The Collaborative Nature of the True Meaning of Art and Symbolism
“What’cha readin?” asked Ophelia, popping into existence near my right ear and settling herself on my shoulder.
“A Haiku by Mark Stuart Farrar,” I responded.
“Ooh! I love Haiku! Is this is it?” She asked jumping down off my shoulder and landing on my keyboard. She then proceeded to poke at my touch screen causing the windows to jump and things to open and close. She squeaked and leapt back startled.
“Ophelia, stop touching stuff.”
“Sorry,” she said sheepishly. She clambered back up to my shoulder and as I opened and closed windows and apps trying to set things back to rights.
“Ah, here it is. It’s entitled ‘Hourglass’
broken hourglass
lying on the beach
where did the time go?”
“I love riddles!” Exclaimed Ophelia.
“I’m sorry, Ophelia, that question is rhetorical. It’s not a riddle, just a poem.”
“That’s not true. All poems are riddles. They challenge us to look inside for clues and meanings.”
“Huh, I never thought of it that way. You make a good point. So what do your insides tell you about this riddle?”
“It makes me think about how humans experience time as unidirectional, your hourglass is broken. The sands of time are scattered and being stolen by work, by people, by the world, like the wind and waves steal the sand from the beach.”
“Wow, that’s a beautiful way to interpret it. For me, it brought up imagery of death. The hourglass represents someone’s life. Upon death the hourglass breaks and the sands inside, representing all of the thoughts, experiences and feelings that make up who they are as a person, are spilled onto the cosmic beach to be scattered and mixed back into the collective oneness that is all things.”
“That’s what’s so fun about poetry,” Ophelia said. “We can each take away a meaning that is important to us, and each one can be different.”
