THE SPIRIT OF THE SAINTS
There is a Water that flows down from HeavenTo cleanse the world of sin by grace Divine.At last, its whole stock spent, its virtue gone.Dark with pollution not its own, it speedsBack to the Fountain of all purities;Whence, freshly bathed, earthward it sweeps again,Trailing a robe of glory bright and pure.
This Water is the Spirit of the Saints,Which ever sheds, until itself is beggared,God’s balm on the sick soul; and then returnsTo Him who made the purest light of Heaven. Rumi
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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
