The gift of melancholy has my dog
Ere, she’s a fine companion of the night
She knows that dark and silence are not fog
It’s when one sits, and contemplates one’s plight.
Her eyes, mirror many years of wisdom,
Her pale eyes, echo Buddha’s lotus pearl.
Her blue eyes, glow with many years of calm,
Her soft eyes, grasp the knowledge of the world.
Her head rests, nestled ‘side mine in the gloom.
I share my heart, she listens and she knows,
In unsaid conversation ideas bloom,
From each, a vast unspoken kinship grows.
I sit zazen and stare into her eyes.
Our minds unite, yet only I will cry.
-David L. Stanley, March 2019