In essence,
 each of us
 is a window.

 So clear, transparent,
 frameless and edgeless—
 we just
 don’t see it.

 Captivated
 by the view
 and entranced
 by its vivid aliveness,
 we see through
 ourselves,
 not recognising
 our radiant emptiness.

Yet at some point
we draw the curtains.
For we sense
the window
reveals our emptiness
to the world.

We fear
our own transparency,
we feel shame
at our nakedness,
for we realise
we are nothing
and have nothing.

We hide behind shutters,
scrambling to cobble together
an identity,
a mask
to show the world
we are ‘someone’,
peeping out
through chinks
in the wall
we’ve built—

or think we’ve built.

For we are still windows,
always clear
and always open.

If we are lucky—
if our longing
for the vast perspectives
that once entranced us
still burns deep within—
the curtains may part
for an instant.

And in the flash of recognition
we also see
that as we look out,
we also radiate
through.

The fire burning in our heart
is the source of light
we shine out
into the world,
and the world
we see
is the reflection back
of our own light.

For we are simply
windows.

WINDOWS