You Gaze at Me in Wonder

I understand I write so much about my eastern window, let me tell
you what I see. Is there only one room in your domicile, I am asked.
Of course not it’s the only one facing east that I use, my reply.

The mountain rim looks down on me — miles of boulders, ledge
and trees. The sun arriving just o’er the rim beams down on all I see.
Leaves shimmer, dancing in the breeze while projecting
their image onto the computer room floor. It’s all so beautiful to
see. I would not change it if I could, rather, I would leave it so,
for our posterity to see.

Just across the road stands our Gazebo with a natural pool
nearby, fed by a running brook that never has run dry. A picnic
bench, handcrafted of course, a fireplace, the same, not used
much anymore. My mate sat there by the hour watching and
feeding the baby trout, while I worked nearby cutting wood for
our fireplace for a cookout lunch. My mate has gone. Her spirit
lives on. She will be with be with me evermore.

Each morning I gaze out through my eastern window, see all the
mountain sights as they were and can picture us together, quiet
and content, enjoying our mountain scenery and each other,
while the brook babbles on and the trout play in the pool.

Do you understand now dear reader, why I write so much of my
Eastern window, I think you do. Your window does not have to
be eastern and maybe no window at all. It’s the one in your mind
and your memories of the time gone by, perhaps of a favorite
place and a loved one that was by your side. Don’t let your
eastern window be forgotten. It is a large part of your now.

Maybe you will record this all as I did, so that as you add the
years, take time to replay it all at live it over at your ease.

My advice , and I am by no means a seer, has been to worry not
about the past, but one can learn from it, perhaps.

All this I see as I gaze out of my eastern window and give thanks
to my God that I can.

Copyright © 2011 Charles E. Frost
August 27, 2011

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