There is something about poetry beyond prose logic, there is mystery in it, not to be explained but admired.

Some things work on you without ever passing through your reasoning. A line, a piece of music, a person’s face: you can take it apart and account for every piece and still not have the thing that moved you. Insisting on an explanation is often a way of staying safely outside the experience. Not everything true about a thing can be said in sentences that argue.

When something lands on you this week, resist the urge to say why straight away. Sit with it a little longer than is comfortable. Let admiration be a complete response sometimes, rather than the first step toward a verdict.