the window...

Windows are a strange thing, a clear divider which people use to hide behind. To observe the goings on in the world while feeling like they cannot be seen. I have stood at this particular window many times over the last two years. Silently observing the changes. The changes in the colours of the trees surrounding the river. The lights in the city fading in and out as the clock continues to turn, like some unknowing tide. I have watched people enter this building with fear things are not going the way they had planned. The feeling that they are not in control of their lives and that some unknown force has already decided their fate. Those people hoping beyond hope that one of the souls in this building  with a collection of metal and rubber tubes around their neck, a symbol of hope, of fear, of a future, of an end. The hope that this person is a titan with the ability to take on this unknown force and control fate, to change what is happen and to provide them with a happy ending, to allow for a new beginning. Sitting at this window you can see many hundred buildings; there are houses and homes, churches spires and universities, hospitals and museums. Those buildings are not alive, they are but bricks and mortar. Yet they all have stories; and they are willing to tell you if you will listen. They have character and quirks unique to themselves, lovingly crafted and given to them by those who built them for others to enjoy. There is a life cycle connection for these buildings, each so very different and yet so well connected. Strands of being and memories, or history and life. The people who live in these homes built by some distant family member who is now gone, who put their hearts into building a university so others could learn and have a better future. Their children who grew up and went to the university to make themselves better and are now working to save lives n the hospital, hoping that their patient will recover, go on, have long lives, children and happiness. The churches where those requiring the comfort and belief that someone is looking out for them can be seen from this window. The churches holding those who need faith, trusting that the prayers they make can be heard and answered.  The museum standing tall and proud, its colourful lights highlighting its beauty and its shadows hiding the cities secrets. This red brick monolithic structure a promise to the future that we will not forget in the future to remember the past, and is a standing reminder to those who love now that we do indeed live. So let us give something amazing to those in the future to remember us by...


It is only a window a simple pane of glass...and yet the picture of a city had many stories, those that are divulged through every medium, those that are hidden and covered over and those that simply drift away to never be told. I will stand at that window again with my hands on the windowsill looking out and wondering what secrets this glass shields me from...