The small window is a sage,
Hedged by trees thick with wisdom and age
Curiosity crawls tender, green life among branches –
Stretched like arms up to Light,
its glorious giver with knowing hands
And beyond, through the window a valley of the same
Green and greener still with bronze
and brilliant gold; an auburn touch in refrain
And everything is in its place
The inquisitive hop of a feathered friend
Delights, smiles, and boldly bids us make amends.
Perched on earthenware to peer through the sage,
makes a home in the midst of manmade pain
and in ignorance reminds
us of our fleeting innocence…
but just right
is the naiveté in the eyes of the
Unfettered, untainted, and not yet undone.
Wise are Lucy’s eyes,
familiar with pain and stricken with sorrow;
But intimate with joy and a great friend
of laughter not yet hollow.
Ten small fingers stretch on tipped toes
to reach the invisible.
In mysterious fascination and unwavering confidence,
They stand with faith that is
Fear takes bigger hands captive –
the calloused and manicured life in hindsight
brings defeat to the plaintive.
and leaves hope in small fingers, just right.
The window sage invites and
Curiosity brings seekers, keepers, dreamers,
lepers and collectors
Through to a subtle world of sparkling divine
Where the children are standing stretched to the King
And it is