Window to the World

 लखनऊ डेस्क प्रदीप shukla 

“Window to the World”

At my window this morning,

light arrived without a sound—

a tender visitor of gold,

as if dawn itself had paused

to breathe upon the quiet glass.

Beyond, the sky lay wide and patient,

its blue a depth no thought could measure.

Clouds wandered slowly, untroubled,

like pale boats drifting

on a sea that had forgotten time.

Leaves trembled with a silver murmur,

each vein holding a flicker of sun—

a delicate music of brightness,

played by fingers unseen,

yet intimately known.

A bird descended for a moment,

resting between flight and farewell.

In her small, watchful eyes

lived forests, rivers, distances—

all the freedoms the heart remembers

but rarely names.

I wondered then—

is nature only what waits outside,

or does it bloom within us,

in that hidden meadow of memory

where silence ripens into meaning?

By evening, the sun leaned westward,

spilling amber calm into the room.

Shadows lengthened like soft-spoken truths,

and stillness gathered gently

around the restless mind.

And I came to know,

as twilight settled into breath—

nature is not merely seen,

but felt;

not only light,

but awareness;

not the world beyond the walls,

but the soul’s own horizon.

My window remained,

yet was no longer a boundary—

only a quiet bridge

between the finite and the infinite.