Across the Panes

Across the panes stands a pot

And beyond that an empty road

And beyond that some empty hearts

And beyond that some empty notes.

Across the panes sits a sparrow

For the likes of whom it's the time of fallow

It chirps the notes Beethoven once wrote

But its language for us is a little too hallow.

Across the panes moves no world

And the rays of the sun dance along

Through crevices on concrete and long-dug holes

And through narrow windows oblong.

Across the panes, the world once rang

Rang the chaos of the heart

But now in silence, it sits and in silence dwells

All that ever was a human part.

Across the panes, some sit in pain for all

While some sit in a warm homestead.

Some in, their homes hear chimes of the bell

While others, in their homes, can't even knell.

Across the panes sits in peace a pot,

And beyond that a lonely road,

And beyond that some seeking hearts

And beyond that some heart-felt notes.