The Open Window

I was working at my desk, the open window before me filling the room with light and air.

All was good, except for my work. I did not like my work, and I did my best to escape it.

So I walked out. I walked away from my work. I stepped out of my room.

And two steps later, I was seized. Not by anyone- nor by any presence-

But by the knowing. Knowing that the window was open.

Then I could see it. I could see the window darkened.

In my minds eye, as my body stood paralyzed,

I saw a beast, the scavenger, the vulture.

It was an obscene growth of death,

It was a hyena, a jackal, a vulture,

All and none at the same time.

The essence of death,

In my window.

But it wasn't,

Thankfully.

It is clear now

That my imagination,

Is most certainly, not safe.

But how could I possibly flee

From the very thing that is myself?

I do not wish to fall through that window.

I do not wish to break open on the ground below.

Yet I don't want to close it either, I don't want to cut myself off.

From this place where I have made so much, this place I've filled with life.

If that life is dangerous, that only names a challenge, something to conquer.

A world to change, beasts to slay, a realm to save, a reason to mount up, and to don the armor.

My mind is a kingdom and in the name of the King all darkness will be engulfed in His great light.