Drops of Color/ The Window

Drops of Color

The Window

Standing on the sidewalk…

I SEE the window.
I know what is ‘inside.’
Metaphorically, I was
born between the pews.

At a young age,
I was always drawn to
the window—
the light from ‘outside’
stained the glass
in colors
not a single word
could convey.

I cannot give you
a day, an hour
when it happened
but, somehow
the glass shattered
and I climbed out
from ‘inside.’

I let go of everything
except what I carried
within—beating aloud.

Now, now that I am out
I see someone has
repaired the window…
better yet, it has been
replaced.

Wouldn’t want anyone
sayin,’ “Another Gone.”

So, here I am
on this sidewalk—

So many beside me.

Maybe ‘we’ are the 
broken pieces the
light shines through

because from out here
we are ‘in’ the 
dwelling place
where not a 
‘single’ One
left out or
restrained.

I have found heaven…
it has been here all
along.

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