My new window looks at rooftops architecture trees and sky. My new window opens to the continuous city work of maintenance and construction going from here to there and back again the voices of cars and dogs and humans and birds. My new window is busy.
After dark my new window sparkles with other windows imprinted on dark silhouettes. The night sky changes color and texture from hour to hour and the full moon wakes me as it shines its reflected secrets into my dreaming eyes. My new window is aware.
The NaPoWriMo prompt for today is to write about what you see through a particular window. This one is in the bedroom of my new apartment. I’m so happy I have such a good view of the moon, which has woken me up every clear night for the past week.
Imagine a window
in a wall that is constructed
of fear and superstition
Imagine an open window–
it does not exist because
no one has built a wall for it
bloomings that subsist only
in the invisible world of the window
growing in the unseen air,
releasing the imprisoned breath
Imagine a window,
a portal to what isn’t there–
a borderless unceilinged sky
Laura at dVerse asks us to make some room. And Sherry at earthweal asks us to consider all that is wrong with the world and how we can make things right. As John Lennon knew, our ability to change is often just a failure of our imagination.
I thought the birdlings were appropriate to these words. And the window is an old collage based on the work of Miriam Schapiro, who knew a thing or two about both portals and collage.