A Good Listener - May 5 2026

 

A Good Listener

May 5 2026



In my practice of silence 

I still talk to myself.

Not out loud, of course

so I presume my vow still holds.

The voice in my head is unstoppable;

my inner monologue

never tires of itself

even though I do.

Monks once took a vow

perhaps still do.

What purpose this serves

in a life of devotion

I’m trying to understand.

Does it suppress the ego, human pride,

as if all of your weighty thoughts

aren’t worth the wasted breath?

Does silence leave space

for the word of God,

that famously aloof

and taciturn redeemer?

Or is it an exercise in denial?

Because virtue is served by restraint,

austerity clarifies; 

just as poverty

celibacy

and unquestioning faith

are antidotes to avarice, envy

and sins of the flesh.

If only my wordlessness

had a purpose greater than circumstance,

because I’d have more to say

if there was someone to listen.

Sure, I see the dog’s ears perk up

and her head cocking quizzically

at the sound of my voice,

but that’s all she hears --

a woodland creature

sending out its throaty calls

and crude animal noises. 

So I vow to speak

when I’ve something worthwhile to say.

When a good listener stops by

and decides to stay.

When the unbearable pressure 

of all the words in my head

cracks the cone of silence

I somehow made for myself,

the monastic solitude

I never really wanted

so much as needed, back then;

when life was hard

and peace felt unattainable.