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July 25, 1999
If you made me a window,
I should learn to kneel there.
If the window is mine,
I should master the view.
And learn how to See Him.
If you made me a place,
to glance at the world, to peer out at life,
I should open my eyes and sit for a while.
If you made me a window, and you
gave me choice by grace,
to open it,
to close it,
to install screens,
to hide behind shades and curtains and blinds,
to knock out all barriers and let the two worlds collide,
then I guess I should choose.
I like what I see.
It's beautiful, even when it's dark-
though sometimes I have to remember,
how it was, how it will be
to uncover its majesty.
The wind blows,
and the trees waltz with the sunlight, and the sky sways back and forth in her rocking chair,
humming a deep, sultry song, smiling through closed eyes,
just outside My window.
Nothing stays the same,
outside My window, from day to day,
but somehow
it all falls back on some basic beauty.
It doesn't look the same, but it sure feels eternal.
If you made me a window,
then I guess I should know.
If you made me a window,
should any other soul stroll by and peer through?
It's alive in my heart only,
It's awake in just my dreams, It's real in just my world,
in the eyes you gave only to me.
If you made other windows,
I guess I'll never know.
All this life,
I've been naive to them,
incapable in all realms of discovering their foreign view.
Though I've seen a sill here and there,
a pane,
or a curtain blowing in my breeze,
belonging to another
who watches the same garden,
appreciates the same beauty,
as I do from my perch.
I've seen bits of others,
who've the same view as I. But there's no one I see, no person I can,
more completely than me,
from My window-
If you've made me a window.



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