Because somehow sitting on the inside of the window,
looking out,
says something more about sitting on the inside of my life
looking further in.
What ever happened to out?
To being on the outside,
pretending to be objective,
claiming reflective,
as if it made me more than anything
or anyone here and gone?
What happened to outside,
looking inside
and the fragility of such futility
as claiming to be sighted
when I was clearly blind?
Not reflective,
but at best
stumbling around in the dark
and shouting,
“I see! I see! Oh why can’t you see?!”
and yet, never going anywhere-
always questioning everywhere the blind went
and wandering along behind them…
as if that were the answer.
As if it were somehow different from the question.
I love this window.
I love the pins that open and close it,
or at least, used to.
I love the open, single pane of it,
unobstructed by lines and tiny boxes that distort the view.
I love that it lets in so much light all day long,
as if it made that choice itself.
i love the abuse it has endured and how it’s still here-
still doing what the window was meant to do.
let light in,
keep weather out,
provide a view into,
or out of.
a good, solid, window
living a good, solid, window life.
I want, at times, to hate this window.
but, that is not true.
i love this window and that is the truth.
for me.
which makes it no truth at all worth believing.
just a window.
it’s just the window.
a window.
any window.
the only truth about the window,
is that it’s a window…
unless you use them for doors-
which would make it a door for you.
a window for me.
so it’s not a window.
it could be a door.




  1. #1 by artzbaglady on January 14, 2014 - 11:26 am

    Glass is strange, because it is a liquid. If you look at the glass, about 100 years old. you can see that it is thinner at the top, and such a clear view. but at you look toward the bottom and while its clear its thicker (or more dense). There are a lot ot technical things about glass. To me that is all about the give and take that glass affords us. We can see what we want to see. The ‘butterfly’ may have the same things I am talking about; stained glass catches many lights and oh the stories that glass might speak. I never look at glass, even the ugle colors that some churches misuse for windows. I look for beauty, the hidden sparks of light and whatever else they bring to mind. I found an elephant here in a local church. Leave it to me to giggle at a serous moment in the sermon That is one of the things that makes me different. I love being different, “The Shack” brought a lot of that back to me…Glass is resilient or we would only have plastic and everything is warped. love you! and God loves you too.

    • #2 by foundedna on January 14, 2014 - 11:28 am

      I really love what this says to me. And I love you too. The butterfly hangs by the window- always.

  2. #3 by SalvaVenia on May 1, 2014 - 3:49 pm

    Georgeous first two lines! Freedom on the rise.

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