The Windows

In these dark rooms where I live out empty days,
I wander round and round
trying to find the windows.
It will be a great relief when a window opens.
But the windows aren’t there to be found –
or at least I can’t find them.
Perhaps the light will prove another tyranny.
Who knows what new things it will expose?

“The Windows” by C P Cavafy, 1903

Poem taken from Collected Poems translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard, The Hogarth Press

Thank you Debbie for the opportunity to consider and ponder over windows through One Word Sunday: Window.  The above photo was taken in the Singapore Botanic Gardens at a tunnel/trellis which I run through often. I am always diverted to see what is “outside”:  family of chickens, yoga practitioners, family picnics. On this occasion, tranquility.

What are windows to you: light source? visual bridge? portal for nightmares, daydreams, world of endless possibilities?

13 Replies to “The Windows”

  1. I have been to that spot too, Ju-Lyn. Tranquil and pretty. Windows to nature. Windows in the metaphorical sense are things about ourselves that are hidden, and then by some circumstance, suddenly revealed!

    Like

  2. A beautiful photograph Ju-Lyn and what a tranquil place it seems. Windows can be a metaphor for so many things, opening and closing, letting in light, birdsong and fresh air when the window opens to nature 💚

    Like

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