Windows

If she stands in just the right spot of her small, stone and mortar cell
And looks up to the window in the opposite corner
And sidesteps carefully to the left - shuffle, shuffle...pause
She sees not only the blue sky
But also the green and brown of a tree branch's tip
Sometimes the white and gray wisp of a cloud
And every now and then
The multi-color of a small bird

She smiles this time, her patience rewarded
His feathers appear brown today, perhaps the sunlight is muted
After a long moment, he flies off, and she sighs

She leaves her spot, kept so precisely for long moments
Wanders around the smallness of her world
Loosening her back, tense from watching
Stretches her arms out in front then pulls them behind
Circles her small room, again and again and again

But in her mind, she is with him
That brown-feathered friend
Soaring above the countryside she used to dance in
She can see it all
The green hills swelling
The grass shivering in the cool breeze
The brook where she would wash off her feet
Before putting her shoes back on

Now she flies with him to a faraway land
He becomes an eagle
Mountains are higher, but together they can summit them
Breeze colder, but still their feathers shield sufficiently
Trees even taller, grass even greener
Great waterfalls leap off of cliffs
With enough power to drown injustice

Further north they fly
To the place where the snows reign
Where mankind understand more the limits of their power
Respect the land, submit to the storm, or perish
The Almighty sees all

They fly to the top of the world
And look upon it
Sad, lovely, yearning place
It waits
It knows
And on gazing, she remembers

On days of grief, she felt the window was a taunt
On most days, it was a gift
But on the really good days, she wondered who needs windows at all
When your spirit can show you anything you need to see