Hope :- The Window

I found a window in my room.
It changes its shape every time I look for it.
Now, it is veiled by white curtains.
But now, it has dirty strong iron bars.
And yet sometimes, it is nothing but a hole in the wall.

The window,
Bare. It wants nothing. It is just there.
Wondering whether someone would come.
To look through it. To find wonders.
To dream of reaching out and touch a spirit never known before.
It sparkles a flame in the soul of the traveller who craves for the road.
Bare, it is. It wants nothing. It is just there.

The window,
It snows through that window,
Night rain squeezes its hand through.
A beam of yellow light.
A thick forest or a single tree.
Mountains and rivers, straits and oceans.

I, a fool, mesmerized by the revelations through that window,
Dreamt of pursuing of snow caped mountains and oceans.
Fell in love with rain and rare flowers of a garden.
It was late I understood that, the window was the hope in me.
It showed me what I wanted to see.
Torn by defeat, devastated by doom
I shut that window and never looked for it again.
And it never appeared.