Through the window I can see the picture of life.
Outside the window, people pass by.
Inside, children gaze out upon the scene,
Stretching to eternity.
On the window is pouring rain,
Running in rivulets down the pane.
The pane is glass, its frame is white,
This window lets through a searing light,
Flooding the room with its beams so bright.
Across the road is an enchanted forest
What secrets lie hidden within its depths?
Far away, in the distance, ground meets sky,
Outside the window it’s cold and dark,
Whilst I’m inside feeling warm and snug.
Looking further from the window still,
There are clouds passing throughout the day,
Drifting to a land far away.
Leaves are falling from the trees onto the ground.
Up high in the branches squirrels play,
Chasing each other tirelessly around and around.
Over in the field there are groups of children playing in the long grass,
But I’m inside, waiting for time to pass.
I’m peering in the window and an old lady
Is staring out at me.
She’s thinking of a life beyond the window,
Far from this world,
Whilst I’m thinking of my life,
Stretching out into the distance,
Far away into the future unknown.
Anne Morgan
