Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe,
for the two stories I see in my window.

One is a reflection:
I see my bathrobe, illuminated by the sun,
and the antique record player behind me,
topped with books and memorabilia.
Partial walls and transient shapes
tell an incomplete story.

The second story is detailed and in full color:
the neighbor’s large plum tree, crowded with pink blossoms;
green lawns, weed patches, roofs and fences;
long shadows on the ground;
intense sun in a cloudless sky.

Blessed are You for this dirty glass, both a window and a mirror.
It collects dust left by rain drops dried in the sun and wind,
and oily smears left by small hands and curious faces.

Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the Universe,
for the convergence of stories in my window.
The glass both divides and connects,
reminding me that You are glass
between my inside story and my outside story,
always connecting, reflecting, protecting, illustrating;
always letting the light come in.