Wednesday, September 30, 2015

My Window

          I see many things through my window, my view is sublime. I see rolling white clouds in the indigo sky over rich earth-toned mountains, lined with thick green, yellow and red trees.
         The graying and black clouds come too.. Overshadowing the now darkening mountain and blotting out the simple beauty of the sun's golden rays. All is void and muddied in the closely falling raindrops, that splash on and make the mountain's slope weak and crumbly. A landslide occurs shortly after the rain begins, taking hunks of mountain, trees, and animals in its tumultuous descent.   Deaths greedy mouth is open to all.

          The dawn brings new life and the warmth of an apologetic sun. It burns blindingly to compensate for its absence, bathing the earth in glittering dewy light. Every fallen raindrop, whether  in a puddle or solely displayed on a tree's leaf, is shining like a diamond. As an enormous mirror they reflect the sun's wondrous light.
          Though I behold all from my window, I can never go out and run through the meadow to the mountainside's shade in the heat of summer, or dance in the wet relieving thunderstorm of fall, nor splash in the muddy aftermath... For the window I look out is barred. Caging me in this dank prison cell, keeping out the earth.  The persistent return of the sun never rejects me, it covers me in its warmth, however "unworthy to be living" I am. The day draws to a close. the fiery red and orange sun slips lower on the horizon, my pen slips from my weak hand, my tired existence ebbing away..

           Perhaps they will bury me beneath the shaded mountainside... Yes... I hope they will...