Windows: A Theology
They capture no light, but allow admittance.
Nor is darkness their prisoner.
Opened or closed, their purposes change,
like water trickling downhill, gathering,
absorbing, dwindling, pretending.
Looking at them, you see past, into.
I have taken glass from its source; I have
fallen through the hard edges and emerged
unscathed. Smooth to the touch,
yet transparent. The words mean nothing
or all, and exist only within structure.
So little to believe, everything to defy.
“Windows: A Theology” was first published in the online anthology Igxante: An Ontology. I am grateful to editor Kate Morgan for taking this piece.
O at the Edges 
Opened or closed, their purposes change–a widely applicable observation. (K)
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Thanks, Kerfe. It seems applicable to other entities…
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You’re not fooling anyone, here. You’re describing your poetry. 😉
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Ha! And you may be onto something. 🙂
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Dear Robert it seems there is more on your mind on theology. Feed us more….
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One never knows what will tumble out… 🙂
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Reminds me of an analogy used by Northrop Frye in “City of the End of Things”. Great poem.
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Thanks, Craig. Now I need to look up the Frye piece.
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