You are the window, through which I view
My world; and every day becomes another weather:
Of your clouds in winter, I can always weep my fill;
My branches trembled, in the longings of your near passage
Down certitudes of silence, though again I may feel your touch
When snowflakes swirl; crystalline ghosts of some suicidal despair.
I drown in shallow puddles, while gasping out your name;
I find that knowing you this way, is better than any other;
Nothing gets held back; of your sudden rages, your desperate freedoms,
Like when you disappear, out of sight the tallest mountains
So I sit down then and count all the reasons, that the malleable stars
Will surely appear again, but only in the wake of your name;
Or when they blink out, lamp-like; that's when I know
Your flaming presence comes, to extinguish the ruins of night.
Patti Masterman
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/you-are-the-window-through-which-i-view/
