Silent windows.
Darkened eyes.
I never used to look up before.
But there is magic up above
The mischievous street below.
I sat for hours in the windows
Warming my face in the sun,
Smelling the aroma of new baked bread,
Throwing seeds to the fledgling sparrows,
And watching the world,
As it danced and played below.
Some would look up
To the magic windows above;
Children laughing merrily
Trying to escape the grasp of their parents,
Drunks sauntering from the bars,
Couples holding hands,
Couples fighting,
Buses leaving to far-away places.
Some would wave,
But most didn’t care to look up
To where the magic existed.
In the windows my life changed.
Serenity infused my soul
As I talked endlessly there with my lover
While he strummed melodies on his guitar
And told me I was beautiful.
I fell in love in those windows
As sunshine poured in upon the beautiful children
Planting flowers at my feet.
I felt pure joy as we danced in the windows
And played drums into the waiting night.
And then, maybe,
A few more people did look up and notice the magic.
But now I always do.
I always look up.
And yet, the last time I saw the windows
Was a stab of pain to my soul.
Blinds were silently drawn
Against the play below,
Against the laughter,
Against the drama of the lives that graced the street.
The magic was blocked so no one could see.
Silent windows.
Darkened eyes.