between two worlds
I wonder what the windowpanes have seen
the changing of seasons,
the building of homes,
the lives that gathered
and grew behind them.
They catch the sun
and cast the shadows,
hold the reflection of a room
and reveal the darkness beyond it.
Always watching.
Always between worlds,
inside and outside,
light and shadow,
what is lived
and what is passing by.
The house is never built around the window,
yet somehow the window
makes the house feel alive.
A catcher of light,
a keeper of seasons,
a witness to everything
a little piece of glass
holding the world within
and framing the world beyond.
