Chronicles of a Window

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From my window, I see you.

You, who wakes up at the dawn,

And hurries to make ends meet.

Your rushed steps tell me,

That you have one more fight to win.

From my window, I see you.

You, and your vibrant flowers.

Flowers that will bring food,

To those little buds back home

Waiting for you at the day’s end.

From my window, I see you.

You, holding her tiny hand,

Fixing her dress, and her ribboned hair.

Whispering to her, not to fear,

As school will be great today.

From my window, I see you.

You, with your spices and sauces.

Whipping an aromatic storm,

Enticing all to grab a bowl,

While you serve with that smile of yours.

From my window, I see you.

You carry the tales of your bygone days,

Your grey hair holding your life’s lessons,

As you stroll with measured steps,

Underneath the sun fading away.

From my window, I see you all.

Through your days of joy and cries,

I silently stay, cheering you all.

And between your moments, I find my place,

As a humble observer of the human race.

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