Drops of Color/ Windows

Drops of Color

The Window

Sitting beside a window,
I suddenly noticed
the reflected glass ‘gazing’ out
into my Soul.

How might this be?

I nudged closer to its sill,
and I heard a sound
drawing me closer and closer.

I perched myself upon the
window pane and there it was
that sound, a familiar song,

“I see trees of green
red roses, too,
I see them bloom
for me and you
and I think to myself…”

I was waiting for the glass to shatter.
Would the window see my Soul in
shattered pieces?  Even, if so,
each fragment part of the story.

I closed my eyes.
The window did not break.
A soft breath released itself,
from my being.

The window, yes, the very window
‘opened,’ continuing its refrain

“…What a wonderful world.”

 

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