How does the crocus know it is time to rise?

We started class today with a small exercise built around Pablo Neruda’s The Book of Questions. It was the last volume of poetry he published. I have always found it intriguing that a man of such insight and contribution spent his last days developing questions – 320 in some seventy poems – that are not aimed at seeking an answer, but rather to enjoy the craft of a good question. It poses a certain irony. Questions accompany a life journey. Answers rise from the needs and insights of a given moment and context. A good question enjoys a permanency of inquiry; answers a fleeting response…