Windows in the Clouds

A clouded horizon is a sunsets playground, where light can cast itself in an array of crevices and windows
Human hope is an inaccessible longing
When the mind is closed

Where is love
Where is loss
And where is feeling?

Where is hope but in a lantern?
Where light is held captive

Where is that light ablaze?
Where is my forest fire?
Where is my gap in the clouds?

Why can’t we see through the window in front of us waiting to be opened?
Why can’t I accept the invitation of a smile?
Why can’t I love you?

Who is the window?
Who is the light?
Why are they the same?
Why are they not?

How can a question go answered
With so many opinions?
And how can sin be final
If not recognized?
And how can water flow
If stopped by the orchestrator?

And how can the frog croak?

Where is eternality
If what I feel is heavenly
And why is there infinite burning
If life's already tragedy? 

 

But it’s okay


It really is


Because there are windows in the clouds
Where the sun peaks through
And that’s what hope is
A window
An opening
Into seeing something more

And that’s why the frog will continue to croak
After the dam is constructed in his yard
Because he knows
The window of what still is and what is beckoning to be

And that’s why love wins
Because our life is a window shop
A place where we peer through multiple instances
A place of hardship, love, and beauty
But a place that allows us to peer and move on

And here we are

Amidst this mess

Amidst the chaos

Still waking up to the opportunity to wallow every day

 

Or dance

Or sing

Or love

 

And although the wallowing is where we start

 

 


Eventually that sun will begin to set

Revealing the window in the clouds

Of the beauty that has been waiting to be seen