The Window

poem, poetry, window


The Window

When I am feeling down I stare out the window.
I become separated from reality,
I am the audience, instead of another actress,
In another act in a long endless play.

When I am feeling cold I cuddle up by the window.
There I can feel the warmth of the fire,
As I watch people walking through the rain,
And the traffic fighting the storm.

When I am feeling young I sit by the window.
I watch the raindrop roll down the window pane,
And then wait with anticipation,
For the rainbow that always follows.

When I am feeling old I stand by the window.
Looking out, I watch the children play,
Soaking up their innocence and honesty,
As they grow during their play session.

No matter how I am feeling,
I pause by the window.
For each mood I possess,
I look out the window,
And see something different.

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