Is it just me or is the way these lilies can be seen through this church window just the most exquisite small gift of the day?
This is a rented house.
You do not own the deed.
You have a lease, and you have set up
a little shop where you barely make a living
sewing patches on torn clothing.
Yet only a few feet underneath
are two veins, pure red and bright gold carnelian.
Quick. Take a pickaxe and pry the foundation.
You have got to quit this seamstress work.
What does the patch-sewing mean, you ask.
Eating and drinking. The heavy cloak
of the body is always getting torn.
You patch it with food
and other restless ego-satisfactions.
Rip up one board from the floor
and look into the basement.
You may see two glints in the dirt.
-Rumi