Gazing though my transparent window
at the gray-tainted sky I watch
as the cumulus clouds roll in the wind.
Soon, the rain will dance and bring
the cold that warms my inner soul
and causes my heart’s content.

As anticipated, I am content.
My warm breath clouds my window.
I’m gladdened at the thought my soul
will no longer linger aimlessly and watch
and wait for what the rain will bring.
Then with gentle force arrives the wind.

Through the clouded glass I watch the wind
as it whistles through the trees. I am content.
As I expected, the falling rain did bring
the cold and I touch the frosted window
with my finger. I draw a heart and watch
the watery mist slide down my glass soul.

I exhale a sigh at the mirrored image of my soul
and grab a throw as I shiver with the wind.
Confinement only allows me to watch
the seasons change my world and its content.
Living through a stained glass window
puts a glare on what life can bring.

Then I wonder what the ever after will bring
when my time here has ended and my soul
has drifted through my blemished window
and fluttered on the whispers of the wind.
Silently, as the hours tick on the watch
of father time, I reflect on my life’s content.

In the gloaming, while recounting the content
and validity of my existence, I boldly bring
with me a serene yet solemn vow. I will not watch
life trickle away or accept that I am without body or soul.
I am the air that I breathe. I am the brisk wind
blowing cold leaving condensation on your window.

Life, not measured by content or weight of the soul
gently blows in the wind in the end. And nothing can bring
it back through the window of existence, as I secretly watch.