Poem 1

Though The Window

Inside it is dark
And it is cold.

The people gather closely around the empty fire
Yet they say there is

I stand at the window
I am surrounded with light
And warmth

Out here the sun shines down
Chasing away the bitterness of the night

I talk often to them
Most days about nothing
Other days I venture to ask the question
Why do you stay in the dark?
In the cold?

They then say that it is not dark
It is not cold
And ask me why I do not come in
Why I stay away form the warmth of their imaginary fire?

The truth is they don’t like it when I come inside
When I come in they are uncomfortable
They feel as thought something is wrong

They feel what warmth really is
They see what light really is
But they can not comprehend it

They know like
It is the darkness they live in

They know warmth
It is what comes from their imaginary fire

Light and warmth being
What they don’t know it to be
Is inconceivable

So they only let me at the window
Always on the outside

For I refuse to give up the light and warmth I have
And exchange it for the darkness and cold that they live in