A Window

I lived in the center

of my own house,

where it was safe

and I controlled

my little world.

One day I realized that

there was a window

in my house,

which meant there was

a world beyond.

I resented the window at first

because I preferred

my world here.

I still prefer my world here

because I know it.

But now when I think

about death,

I realize it is a window,

affording a glimpse

into coming life.

And the more people I know

who now live

outside the window,

the more I look forward

to moving there myself.

Were there no death,

I might not think about forever.

I would always feel safe

in a house that is actually

hemming me in.