The Window

Wake-Up Call #3

Today’s Sunday morning Wake-Up Call comes in the form of something resembling poetry.

I love poetry, but am not a poet. Don’t know a couplet from a croissant. When, on occasion, something resembling verse tumbles out of me, I usually hear it as spoken word in my head. It’s more lyrics than verse. That’s what guides me. Rules be damned.

So, here we go with today’s poetry-ish Wake-Up Call. Be gentle.

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The Window

You speak about it

As if it were a portal

To your potential

What lies through it

You see, oh God, you see

Yet you cannot touch

Or breathe

Or be

Waiting and wondering

When will someone come

To lift the pane / the pain

‘Til you wake

Should you wake

To the window’s reframe

There is no savior

Pushed-up sleeves

No unsung hero

Only you

Still you deny

Who am I

To set myself free

It’s been so long,

Painted over, nailed down

Prematurely bound

Yet, in the stillness

Before the pane

You come to believe

“There is no path to freedom

That does not go through me”

So you come to the frame

Feeling, groping

Raging into time-worn sutures

Shaking, heaving

Teasing

Kneading

Bathed with effort’s dew

Flesh on wood

Slowly

It yields

Yawning open

You breathe

Shallow, testing sips

Then deeper / Deeper

Inhaling possibility

Potential once obscured

Now revealed

Exhaling the wail

Of loneliness and futility

Of complacent disconnection

You pause

Lean in, and look

No longer apart

But not yet a part

Of that world

Out there

And then it happens

Reality tumbles softly over the sill

Into the reservoir

of your crossed legs

Conspiring into the soul

To what use

Asks its voice

Will you put this portal

Will you simply sit, and gaze

Flirting with the scent

Of a life that calls

Illuminated, yet still

Sedated

A denizen of breath and sight

Subsisting on wisps of essence

Yet never taking your seat

With friends

To feast

To weave

To span the chasm

From what if

To this shall be

Or will you

In some way, your way

Traverse the frame

To set ablaze

A world that

Only you can claim

And then you notice

A deeper truth

The window, it seems

Is not an end, but an invitation

A passage to invention

It was never about the window

But the will to step through it

And then you wonder

How can I

And then you realize

How can I not

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Wake-Up Call #3 | Journal & Conversation Prompt:

If you’re inclined, take a few minutes to write what you feel in response to the words above, but even more, to the questions below.

Don’t think, just let it flow. Then, if you’re inclined share with someone close and let it become a conversation. Or, join in the comments (for full access Wakers, if you’re up for it).

• What does the window represent in your life?

• What do you see when you look through it?

• What does life out there look and feel like?

• What might your first step through it be?

Look forward to seeing and hearing what arises!