There were two things I wanted to write about – the concert on Sunday and a late night drink with Kathryn at Pirate, where we got tipsy on Samos and stopped at a dark chapel on the way home. The next morning, there was a coffin lid exhibited outside that chapel and the bells rung in it for a funeral procession.
I don’t have enough words today, I’ve spent them all. Here instead is some Rumi.
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,
It makes absolutely no difference
what people think of you.