On Enlightenment

My post below on judging and Identity took me (again!) to the question of Enlightenment. Either we agree that people can achive a kind of transcendence of bias and personal sympathies, or we don't. I think not-believing-in-enlightenment is one good definition of postmodernism. I'm not a postmodernist. Poet Denise Levertov contributes to the conversation:
The Secret

Two girls discover
the secret of life
in a sudden line of

I who don't know the
secret wrote
the line. They
told me

(through a third person)
they had found it
but not what it was
not even

what line it was. No doubt
by now, more than a week
later, they have forgotten
the secret,

the line, the name of
the poem. I love them
for finding what
I can't find,

and for loving me
for the line I wrote,
and for forgetting it
so that

a thousand times, till death
finds them, they may
discover it again, in other

in other
happenings. And for
wanting to know it,

assuming there is
such a secret, yes,
for that
most of all.
...for wanting to know it, for assuming there is such a secret... what a line, Levertov! I love those girls too, and for the same reason.

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