Thumbing through the copy of
Merton’s Birds of Appetite
she found on our living room shelf,
my wife asks me who it had belonged to,
curious about the writing in the margins.
I look and recognize the hand of an old friend;
we used to talk about Zen and Shakespeare.
She wonders if I ever hear from her —
but I have grown so much quieter,
and I can’t bear to intrude
upon spaces so large.
What would I say?
bussokuseki 
This is stunning. I had been hoping to run into a memorable poem like this. It had been a while. Thank you so much.
I am so happy to have you say so. We all write for ourselves, but it is wonderful when someone else finds meaning in it. Thank you for visiting and taking the time to comment. Be well~
I love what is not said in this, more than what is said.
Thank you. I struggle with that as I write, trying to leave the most important parts between the words rather than in them, as it were. I appreciate the feedback. Be well ~
That’s what makes a great piece of writing. Does not lead or force the reader in one direction, but lays out a vision through images.
Pingback: Sick Kid « Becoming Buddhist
Pingback: Bestowing Awards | The Temenos Journal
Great piece of writing!
Thank you Chris. I have a great deal of respect for your writing and opinion. I wish you well ~
This is something special, including the slightly irreverent ‘birds of appetite’…leftovers from an old bird? I hope that was as intentional as that as it deserves to be…
Thank you, as always, for your visit and comment. I did shorten that line/title for some effect – but it is always in the mind of the reader where the truth lies. Be well~
Nice!
Thank you so much for reading – I wish you well~