We Windows of the Wall

We're special,
so we're told,
we windows of the wall.

With loneliness the price,
we endure,
for out there
our escape hatch,
through which
every eye beholds
vast dreams,
is deemed priceless,
so we're told.

Our genesis began as escape,
holes in cave walls,
lean-tos,
boat hulls,
hovel,
and castle.

Today…

We idle our time,
our bodies anxious,
hospital aisles our waiting rooms.

Soon…

Hazmat suits and zip bags
will place an unlucky adopted
in a cold truck,
delivery bound.

Then…

Many of us
will accept others neglect,

don our masks

and await more endings
missing the clear-pane joy
of witnessing our first night
with eyes of glass.

We'll trust we're now safe
embraced by walls,

some of cloth,

some of rock,

some of glass.

Shields…

A roof,
for prevention.

A loving home,
our protection.

So we're told.

Taught we were,
so astute our shamans.

Yet of late,
time has spread
our tomorrows

into a reality of doubt
with extremists warning,
as outside grows dark with
the sightless eclipse of mind,
blindness of heart,
perhaps rendering void
any call for
we windows of the walls.