Where Is My Window

When looking for a foothold,

the chance of a bargain certainly eats away

integrity as might be imagined.


While walking one evening,

it did suddenly dawn on me, in a rise

of agony, how disturbing is loss.


Perhaps one day when right

an adage so often felt to emote

would be my saving Grace.


I told a friend just the other day,

he agreed with me and the two of us

laughed until we figured out why.


If time is truly a capsule,

I wonder about perhaps hatching

new ideas to squander the old.


I once knew where the open door

would wait for my forever determined

outlook upon open windows.


To feel the necessary energy

capable of creative opportunity,

would be that life is true.

Moments Near Windows

The teacher said,


Draw a picture of the world outside

Bring to life the vibrancy you might see


But I didn’t know what I could see

Mattered little to her direction

You see what I see might seem

A little off, if I were to really let you see


Wait a little bit and you might then

Realize that we are truly reflective

Of only what we choose to see

That stricken notion of revelation

Seems rather docile to the naked eye

Yet inside the mind of a child in wonder


To see the world through my youthful lens

One might ask for a reprieve from a society

That suggests we observe in a certain manner

With the rules of asking simply for notoriety


Are you truly curious of that which I see?

Or is this assignment your personal idiosyncrasy!