The Zen of Writing (A Haibun)
I wake up to the sound of a voice in my head and I know instantly that it is “writing” what could be an introduction to a book. I listen intently as the voice “writes.” When it is over, I hear a familiar tune – a lone olive-backed sunbird is singing in the backyard. I smile and say to myself, “And then the sunbird sings…” Darkness still covers everything outside and inside the house. But within me, a veil is lifting. the sparrows and fantails are nowhere, their merry chatter a mere memory now the sunbird sings Our mornings are so different now. For almost eight months during the year, the backyard becomes a favorite meeting place for the Eurasian tree sparrows. From November to June, they are there tweeting, chirping. The birds converge while it is still dark and begin to chatter. By seven, just as we are preparing breakfast, they are gone. The monsoon rains are here and the sparrows no longer come. The sunbirds and the yellow-vented bulbuls have the backyard all …