“The thief forgot to take
the moon framed in the window.”
(Ryokan)

The thief took away all that he could lay his hands on. There were not many things in the poor monk’s cell, but he could always have found some piece of clothing, some writing utensil, a begging bowl or a walking stick, and all this was taken away by the professional plunderer under cover of the conniving night. The monk, always alert to the noises of the night, woke up in time to see the silent shadow and understand the house-cleaning he had just unwillingly undergone. He noted the missing articles, but then he looked at the window, saw the full moon framed in its background of stars, and smiled to himself. His most precious possession was intact. The white moon was still shining through the square of his window. The monk turned in his bedding and went on with his sleep. His riches were safe.

Who can take away the moon from me? Who can take away the sun and the stars and the clouds and the winds and the mountains and the meadows? Who can deprive me of my greatest treasure which is the earth and the sky and the air and the sea? World markets may fluctuate up and down and may drag along with them the value of my money and the savings of my toil. The thieves of darkness can spy on my earnings and empty my coffers. All that can be gained, can be lost, and the anxiety for the constant danger dampens the joys of uneasy possession. There is no restful sleep under the ceiling of ambition.

The true restful sleep comes under gentle moonlight. Detachment from unnecessary tinsel. Wise austerity in the midst of a wild consumerism. Simplicity as a way of life and as a matter of spiritual elegance. To place nature first, so that all other pleasures may yield rank, fall back, lose importance, and thus cease to be a hindrance, as they usually are, with their compulsive craving and their doubtful outcome, in the healthy pursuit of happiness in life. If we learn how to enjoy the silent beauty of a moonlit night, we’ll not feel any more the urge to hunt for pleasure in the deceitful shows of boisterous emptiness.

Whoever bears in themselves the riches of his life, will never need to cast about to find external glamour which will never fill his heart and can always trap him in frustration. Now, to bear one’s riches in oneself means to know how to appreciate and enjoy in full the daily blessings of life itself – the day and the night, the water and the breeze, solitude and silence, friendship and company, the laughter of the child and the trill of the bird, dawn and dusk, food and sleep, prayer and love. All that the moon in the night represents and enacts in her loving presence, her transparent light, her delicate figure. All those treasures that no one can take away from us.

Before going back to sleep, the poet and monk bequeathed to eternity his thrifty verse wrapped in his nightly smile:

“The thief forgot to take
the moon framed in the window.”