Christine Phillips | + Follow Poet |
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Windows To My Soul

I  sat at my desk in the early hours of the morning listening to the words of the mighty one calling “windows to my soul” kept warning. I didn’t question it, I didn’t understand it, I just commit to it. It was a message for me to go down the road to show me what was about to unfold. Something suddenly resonated from the deep causing me to feel upbeat; I walked about the house then grabbed my bike and hurried down the street. I rode past the skinny guards at the gate chatting and laughing in the wee hours of the morning, belching, coughing and yawning
The street was bare and empty and I had no burden to carry
I had the road for myself and I had nothing to dread
I rode toward the East and circled around the park and gazed at the landmark, no one was around and I was in control of the town
I climbed upon the seat of the roofless theater erected in front of the partially dried up river. I stood on top of the seats and stretched my hands towards the heaven and listened to the distant drumbeat erupting the universe with its rhythmical sound
I turned towards the East, West, North and South and
I could hear the clouds shouting out, my sprit groans and the angels started to frown,
The sun buried inside the screaming clouds dying to get out
 It stood still waiting to burst out on my window sill
Here I am again looking at something insane
Here I am once again pretending to be lame
Here I am once again looking at your shame
I see them coming and I see them going,
I see them aching and shaking
Tall colorless buildings lined up beyond the river
The night has come and gone and daylight has taken over
The radiant light flashed across the stretch
Pulling me towards the gigantic windows
I have been to this place on several occasions
But I have never seen so many windows
Windows of all shapes and size calling me to the other side.
The stage suddenly comes alive and everyone crowd my side
 Trying to get my autograph and photograph
The windows suddenly flown open and thousand peeped out shouted out my name, igniting me with their passion
I have never experienced anything of this fashion
I was moved by a sudden bliss, and I reached out and felt their kiss
Spectators are pouring in and the show is about to begin
I climb further up the stage and more windows kept opening
Long steps appeared offering me a ride to heaven
Window without door peeping deep in my soul
I hear them whistling, I hear them coughing, I don’t know where they have been
I stood on the stage penetrating the sleeping city beyond me
A skinny bare back man jogged past below me and stared
Not long after an old man with his hands crossed behind his back and bending over his weight paced back and forth
I stood on the stage looking at the windows arranged from corner to corner
Windows of various heights calling out the daylight
The street suddenly began to buss with sound all around
The night has gone and daylight suddenly entered the town
I left the stage and return home but when I reached
The corner something grabbed my attention
The herbal street filled with all types of herbs’
Spread its fragrance around in the morning
I walked crossed the street and start smelling the herbs
but I wasn’t sure if they were bushes or garden weed
If my mother was around she could have told me what the bushes were about. I walked along the sidewalk
And pounced upon a familiar smell,
 It was the popular West Indies fever grass
The woman had a little and was reluctant to sell me
She wanted to sell me a pile of bush that she had parceled out
But I did not recognize that bush .I walked about and found some scented mint on the herbal street and I mad a purchase 
Long vine bitter roots, sweet roots and bundle of herbal bush
piled up on the herbal street. Buyers and sellers bustle about
Selling their herb in the little town
I see them coming and going
I see them walking and I see them talking
I can see them from the windows of my soul.

Copyright © Christine Phillips | Year Posted 2018

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