Window on the World

A wooden window frame ...
In a run-down two story house
An upstairs bedroom with many wonderful memories

A wooden window frame ...
Six panels of old glass, frosted over with scenes of yesteryear
Looking through at the world outside
A world filled with love, hate, joy and sadness
A world that searches for forgiveness of its sins

How can I see this world?
Where is this place of salvation?
I am alone here, sitting in a chair by the window, in total darkness. Bringing a warm glow to my face,
As the earth turns its magical circle.
I sit here alone waiting, listening to an expressive world.
The robin redbreast sings outside the window.
A soft breeze rustles the tree branches,
Shaking them against the lower pane.
I can hear the sounds of cars passing in the street below.
People talking, a radio playing loud music,
all reaching up to encircle my ears
This life I live is limiting, but fulfilling in many ways.

A wooden window frame ...
A looking glass on the world
Seeing with eyes that do not see
Eyes that still sense the beauty
Eyes that never tasted the sight of a
lovely smile, an admiring glance
But I do not want or need pity.
I have survived these 30 years,
Seeing with my heart, my thoughts, my other senses,
to show me what eyes have never seen.

Alan M. Toback
© 9/21/2002