THE MORNING POEM

  These spiritual window-shoppers,      who idly ask, 'How much is that?' Oh, I'm just looking.      They handle a hundred items and put them down,      shadows with no capital.       What is spent is love and two eyes wet with weeping.      But these walk into a shop,      and their whole lives pass suddenly in that moment,      in that shop.       Where did you go? "Nowhere."      What did you have to eat? "Nothing much."       Even if you don't know what you want,      buy something, to be part of the exchanging flow.       Start a huge, foolish project,      like Noah.       It makes absolutely no difference      what people think of you.

Rumi

Get full access to Tea and Zen - Threads at teaandzen.substack.com/subscribe In the quiet between heartbeats a whisper calls you home, you are not broken you are becoming. These threads of silence and sound are letters from the threshold, offerings from the edge of stillness. Nigel  TEA AND ZEN - MAIN LIBRARY



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