She looks out the window. For today, she sees the window to be more than a glass pane to let the breeze in. She stops to look out. For that one time, she looks outside and feel the breeze. She gaze to the outside world, far and deep. It is not really a magnificent view, just very much simple, with trees that have no flowers, with leaves that are aging holding on, and the sky that is barely blue. But there is a strong breeze, a strong wind.
She is immersed in that outside world.
For the years she stayed, she never bothered to glimpse or observe. She only opens the window, so she can breathe and let the breeze come into her room. Today, she sees the window more than just a pane of glass.
The trees are sometimes dancing, to the wind's direction. She sees the dance of life from where the wind blows. Sometimes, when the wind turns into a storm, she sees the trees as if defending themselves from falling. The harder the wind blows, the stronger the trees hold on to the ground, to stand tall. The leaves that hangs around will then fall one by one to the ground. The aging leaves, falls faster. But some of the aged ones, hold on strongly with the others, holding on to the time that it will fall down.
She looks up, staring at the sky. There is not much she can see from her window. But that view of the sky she has, enough for her to see the clouds passing by. Looking at the clouds, like a flock of sheep walking. The fluffy clouds and sometimes you can see one tiny cloud, left behind. Sometimes, you can see the sky wearing the colour blue, but at times, its just the white sky.
Here on the other side of the window, a girl looking out, staring at these creations, to the nature's melody, to the dances by the trees, to the movement of the clouds and the wide blue sky. She isn't only looking at nature. She is looking far beyond that. She realizes that outside window lies a reality. Lies a world she will go through every single day she steps out of the door. She thought deeply of every trees she has passed by, at thousands of places she has been to. From the trees in autumn to the trees in winter. From trees with leaves, to the ones with flowers. She knows for a fact, she passed by so many places that her feet has bring her to. Places where she discovers new experience, every single day of her life.
The sky, witness her walk of life. The wide sky, that looks upon her life, her walks and her encounters. When the sky has the sun with it, it shines on her happy days.When the sky and clouds are together, it helps her to feel the warmth of the sun, with comfort. But when she's down, the raindrops fall to show that when she falls, the sky cries for her. The sky sees her walk of life. She is never alone.
She realizes today for a fact. That today and the week to come, will be her final moments staying in this room. To look out at this window, that has been her sight for the past years. She will close the window, this final time and finally move out. Moving out and make new steps, to the outside world. She will no longer be the observer. She will be the walk of life. The one that makes the steps outside, along with the dances and melody. The fact that she will be with the outside world, scares her.
What if falls down like the leaves, unable to hold on?
What if she won't be able to dance as strong and as beautiful as the trees?
What if she's left behind the group of life, whom walk as one?
Will she forever make raindrops on her ground?
But for that one second, she thought, she needs to make that walk. She needs to step into that world. She's apart of that life. Like every other life, she lives for a purpose. She'll dance as beautifully as the trees. Like the trees, she will stand strong when the storm blows. Let the rain fall, because she will be walking as one with every clouds. Shine as bright as the sun. So when the wind blows, she will feel the life, for she is also part of the life, 'It's time' she said. 'It is time'. Time for her to make that walk. She looks back into her room, ready to pack up to leave, with a smile in her face.
PS: Sometimes the world tells you so many things. There's no need for them to speak the language we speak. It's whether we want to listen to the melody, or whether we have time to observe.