Windows

Through your window. Autumn mid afternoon. The road; pickups ramble seldomly, sleepily. Leaves still cling. Shed another moment of grace. of beauty. The sun comes through a filter of cold. Enhanced. Vivid. Blue. Green. Orange. The very air is fire. The wind brings hints of December's ice. The mountains roll. The back of a whale diving underneath a grassy sea. 

The other side is real. The window--see creation on display. Reveals each passing season one by one. Life, it's what passes by the glass. 

You turn on the sink. Full steam ahead. Steam indeed. Hot. Water rushing straight from faucet to drain releasing clouds--clouds captured between these four walls. Sunlight muffled. Dampened day. Rolling hills become smudges. Ground--the green lower half. Sky is the upper blue. Soon to be gray. 

Window fogged. Display vague. Almost gone now. Scene lost. Life done. 

Oh, unholy vapor spewing from my chest. How you block my view. Hide my God. May the hand of grace cleanse the opaque. Turn everything crystal. 

Oh Holy Light, break through the gray of night.