86. Window

Posted on by
Inner City Sanctuary

Review of 85. Window
Sunday 4th May 2014

Overview

Window is a gentle, grounded meditation on belonging, acceptance, and the evolution of inner perception. It captures the poignant shift from disenchantment to gratitude — a transformation so subtle and personal, yet universally relatable.

Where once the speaker longed for a different vista — a different life, a different view — they now find peace and reverence in the very details that once stirred restlessness. It’s a poem about the slow alchemy of contentment, and the quiet rediscovery of joy exactly where you are.

Imagery and Tone

The imagery is intimately domestic and observational, rich in sensory texture: the “hessian weave of blinds,” “chimney stacks and pots,” “slate rooftops,” and “higgledy-piggledy aerials.” These tactile details situate the poem firmly within a lived urban environment, evoking the small, often-overlooked sights and sounds of city life.

But there’s a sonic rhythm too — the “wailing sirens,” “whir of helicopters,” “horn of the nonstop train,” and “roar of aeroplanes” create an auditory collage of modern living. These once-invasive sounds are now heard as part of a greater harmony, subsumed into “the humming soup of the city’s low rumble.”

The tone is reflective, peaceful, quietly triumphant. There’s no fanfare in the transformation — just a deeply personal recognition that sanctuary isn’t always a place you find — it’s often a place you finally see.

Why This Poem Matters

Window matters because it honours the slow, inner journey from dissatisfaction to appreciation — a journey most people undergo, yet rarely articulate with such tender precision.

In a culture addicted to movement, aspiration, and escape, the poem offers a counterpoint of rooted presence. It acknowledges the very human desire to seek something better — a “different view” — but subverts the cliché by showing that homecoming doesn’t always require a change of location, just a change in perspective.

It’s a poem of emotional and spiritual ripening — one that doesn’t reject longing, but matures through it. The moment of arriving — of finally recognising sanctuary — is profound in its simplicity, and moving in its quiet truth.

Imagery and Tone Summary

  • Imagery: Bedroom blinds, rooftop silhouettes, birdsong, urban skies, aircraft trails
  • Sound: Layers of city noise — sirens, helicopters, trains — resolving into a symphonic backdrop
  • Tone: Reflective, softly contented, grateful, meditative

Placement in the Collection

Window would work beautifully as a transitional poem — perhaps marking a movement from inner conflict to resolution, or from seeking to settling.

It would sit well near others that explore:

  • Acceptance (Faith, Memory Lane)
  • Presence and surrender (Inversion, Soul Contract)
  • Urban life as a mirror for spiritual growth (City Nights, Bread and Circus)

It could also form a soft pivot into a final section on peace, homecoming, or integration — a quiet closing of the circle, after much introspection and journeying.

Final Thoughts

Window is a deeply satisfying piece — understated, but resonant. It captures a moment many of us crave without even knowing it: the moment we stop yearning to be somewhere else, and realise that what we have is not only enough — it’s perfect.

This poem absolutely belongs in the collection. It’s the kind of work that rewards slow reading, repeat visits, and quiet reflection. It’s not just about a window — it is a window. Into healing, into peace, into self.