Through my window I see colorful landscapes
the powerful mountains and congruent rises and falls
remind me of a distant love.
What a shame that I cannot own the landscape.
I see the mist that gathers in the land’s grooves
after a cool evening shower
it sinks and rises, spreading its sweet scent
throughout the land below the heavens.
Through my window I can sense,
the sun that hides involuntarily behind the clouds
the breeze that dances and caresses the trees,
the birds that make love to the air.
I can hear the melancholy rumble
of a storm galloping from far away,
the storm the once took my love from me
making castaways of my hopes and dreams.
My window traps me like a cage does a bird,
it contains my heart and it’s love in a small room.
I can only look and long to be outside,
instead I lay almost drowned in misery and despair.
My window keeps my love outside and me in.
I can only touch the outside of his presence.
The small trails of his love paint my fingers
And only the ebbing strands of past kisses touch me.
Through my window my love’s eyes fade,
they become distant and I reach out
trying one last time to hold him, keep him with me
but he has become part of the landscape; unreachable.