Glass Figures

Glass Figures

i was in the car with my family,

driving up and down the hill-like streets of downtown San Francisco.

i looked out the window as would every other person riding a car,

searching for something to admire or simply relieving boredom

and there they were,

the warm lit squares and rectangles on the surfaces of every building.

windows of every size,

some open and bright from the light inside and some shut closed.

windows tell a lot of stories.

they give the shortest glimpse into the life of a stranger,

or provide a brief opening into a story.

and the beauty there is that you can make anything of it.

i saw one with a floor to ceiling book shelf and thought,

maybe the person who lives here is the type to carry a book with her wherever she goes

maybe the person who lives here sits right beside that window for her morning coffee and read

just as i would

another had a christmas tree and a bunch of frames and i thought,

this is the home of a family

by the window is where the family sit cozily in front of their tree and talk to each other

just as my family would

and then i saw a few more

but instead of noticing the things behind them,

i thought of what my own window would look like from the outside.

my window would have soft and warm light illuminating from it.

it would show my wall shelf with my collections of books and trinkets from the cities i’ve been to

it would show my dog sleeping

it would show me typing away on my laptop as i sit on the couch and have a cup of hot green tea in

one hand

it would show me curling up on one side of the couch reading a book with a candle lit

it would show laughter in many faces for when my friends are over and we’re all reminiscing

it would show me softly and passionately looking at him and giving him a kiss good night

my window would show many fragments of my life,

but that is all they’ll ever be—

a glimpse, a brief opening, a fragment.

it’s never going to be the full story.

people will only continue to see parts of your life,

no matter what those may be.

through a window, there is hope.

there is light, there is beauty, and more importantly, there is life.

windows of a building or an entire street co-exist much like humans co-exist wherever they may be;

life continues to happen for each of us, and so it does through these windows.

Poem by Mikaela Chu, follow her work on Instagram.


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