Windowed Walls

It was but a window then

The skies of Jersey met Manhattan

painting neither peace or rage

held by clouds of gauze laced boundary lines

giving temporary haven to the rising ethos

Horns

voices

clangs,

jack hammers

incensed ether of mass confusion

All of like worthiness

seeking like me a window

that would give release to unbridled fear

copious love

rampant loneliness

and a child’s hope inside insistent ego

Like all windows

however

One either glances through

contemplates the layered images

renouncing the obvious

allowing transparency to direct

or

Acquiescence pulls shut a curtain of doubt

whether ignorance

hostility

vengeful composure

or guilt by default

It was but a window then

That long ago year

where the attic of discovery

atop a theater

brought fourth a youth’s

malign-encrusted portal

And like a tenuous interface

the glass separating feathered freedom from fearful man

old visions became shattered

giving birth to epiphany

For windows provide not answers from gifts outside

but instead provide a reflection that asks we look within

find the echo from light afforded by shadow’s lateral arabesque

and embrace the inner treasures so often left undiscovered

Giving ourselves permission

to embrace the hidden gifts

while smiling at the drifting amorphous gray outside

offers little of answers

only joy in the new questions

why windowed walls provide such giving illusions

why examination parents infinite birth