Two monks friends for sixty years watched the geese pass, “Where are they going?” one tested the other, who could not say. (From Valerie Rosen)That moment’s silence continues. No one will study their friendship in the koan-books of insight. NO one remember their names. (From Mario Moreno)
I think of them sometimes, standing, perplexed by sadness, goose-down sewn into their quilted autumn robes.
Almost swallowed by the vastness of the mountains, but not yet.
As the barely audible geese are not yet swallowed; as even we, our love, will not entirely be lost. (From Magda Indigo)