The Windows

For the first time, the windows open Staring at the strange lights surrounding Afraid of the big bright world The windows adjust slowly Taking in all the sights of people and grass The sun and the sky with the moon and the stars In the early morning, the windows open to the world Let the sunlight in and survey the view Close again to savor the fragrance of the scene The windows see joy and observe the land Survey the new and ever changing times Watching other windows with the same bold light as its own When the thunder sounds, the latches tremble Bracing themselves against the brutal storm Never yielding until the evil tempest is past Opens a crack, and quickly slams shut again The troubles are not over yet The window holds still in the trials Fearing for the things it does not want to see Squeezes shut until the gentle breeze flows To whisper that the worst is gone The sights that the windows see true They cry with sorrow, they cry with joy The windows enlighten the mind to see all At life’s end, the windows are old The shutters are worn with the lines of life And they finally close shut, for the last time…