Seen through a window mist dimly

My heart is full from these rainy roofs,

from a yellow-gabled window interrupting purple slope,

sage green next to white next to rusty red,

cedar shingles seen through a window mist dimly;

from wooden animals carved in a far-off land

     now lined up along a window ledge,

     always travelling by standing still.

Though this is just a small town on a damp day

and my coffee is bad and my toes cold,

there is some mystery here beyond the misted pane,

just out of reach of my grasping mind.

I have travelled to this place in search of a presence beyond

but the mystery meets me in a wet sidewalk like any other

and in the simplicity of metal roofs carrying rain down from the sky

– another journey upward turned down.

Bursting into the fug,

a little girl spins around the pillar singing

“Sun, sun, mister golden sun!”

and while he isn’t shining down on us today

her yellow hair and rippling laughter are my sun,

and the mystery

is in me.

This is not my town

nor the cafe I wanted to sit in,

but resting my feet on a window ledge

something inside me comes home.

Another journey outward leading in,

always travelling by standing still.

(Tuesday 9th April 2013,

St. Andrews-by-the-Sea)