As If My Hand

What was it he said on page seventeen

Of his “Reader” which I held in my hands?

Why should I hear it more as an echo

Than something profound from his pen?

It’s only a statement

Mere words on a page

A visualization of thought,

Nothing more than a personal truth.

Yet of all five hundred and fifteen pages

This one echoes the loudest again and again

Within my thoughts,

As if something profound from his pen.

As though it were not only a truth within him

But also within myself.

It’s something I’ve felt

Something I’ve known,

Echoed here from his pen,

That within my pages exists.

What it was he said on page seventeen

Was for me confirmation of truth

As if my hand moved the pen.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Sometimes someone else's words sound very much like our own.  Such were the words of Thomas Merton for me.

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Victor Buhagiar's picture

Loved this poem. Every element of truth echoes in it.

Melissa Rives's picture

Ah yes, and like Robert Frost is to me! Wonderful poem. I love how you say that it's something echoed from his pen, something you've felt and known. Fantastic.

onelilartist's picture

I know the feeling! Sara Teasdale's work speaks to me in the same manner.