There is a window we sit at…
Looking for something we don’t know yet
Whatever we see we think this is it
We go on gathering but there is no end to the list
There is a junk yard at the back doors
But we do not stop and seek a little more
No matter what we acquire the flavor doesn’t change
Wealth, love, lust all lead to the same pain.
Dawn to dusk it is the same old story
The window has lived a hundred years waiting for that glory.
My time shall approach when its time
Once more I’ll shed the search in its prime.
I’ll find another window on my return,
If all goes as planned, it is the sight of me I hope to behold.
life from thought to thought 