Sima Speak - Two Windows

PHOTO CREDIT: Kelly Eddington

TWO WINDOWS

Have you ever rediscovered yourself, surprised at the thought that you could ever forget? It happened one day to her, with the quiet opening of a window. Suddenly, she was a little girl again, peeking out on a cool, winter morning.

While her breath connected with the world's, her fingertips played with a shelf of snow. The memory was so sudden, so abrupt that she held her breath. It was not just her youth she tried to savor but life. The morning sat sleepy, almost motionless, but in her hands it felt vast, alive.

So real was the memory that she licked her fingertips to taste once more the wet snow. When her eyes tried to focus out again, they fell not on winter, but an open window to SPRING. The grass was green, the flowers were blooming, the air was warm and fresh. The morning sun brought no birds, just a gentle hum of cars from a far off road.

How very strange to think that a spring day should align with a winter memory, that lush green could be a portal to winter white? How beautiful is the mind where everything stands connected, two seasons, two windows, two pieces of the self, lost and found again.

By Nancy Sima

Hello April - It's National Poetry Month! Over the next few weeks I'll be sharing all things poetic here at Calendar Gal.