Shadows and Glass
There are not enough windows,
enough light, enough clear glass
for those who look the other way,
who choose to look into the dark
and see the shadows and night,
preferring it somehow,
thinking somehow that it protects them
from the falling night,
Not seeing that the direction they choose makes night live
forever.
About this poem.
Happiness is a choice they say. Whether or not that is true, we do have a choice of where we focus our inner eye, our hearts, the words we speak. And that can make all the difference.
The photograph was taken at the Tampa airport. I was struck by the shadows and light. seeing it as a black and white photograph even before I took the picture.
Tom
Quarry House 
Yes, perhaps happiness is a choice. When one is in a dark place though, melancholy seems inevitable – there is no willpower to push through it. It’s a very hard place to be; the simple act of turning one’s face to the light feels nearly impossible. Small things such as choosing kind or caring words can make a little chink in the wall of darkness and a trickle of hope can begin to buoy the soul. I’m glad winter is beginning to lose its grip – it’s helpful in many ways.
On a slightly different note, I was struck by your declaration “seeing it as a black and white photograph even before I took the picture.” A wonderful characteristic of an artist’s eye and an asset in that moment! Yet in life, how often we make a summation, a snap reduction, of a situation, seeing it as black and white before we even have a chance to appreciate the nuances and delicacies. We have an itchy shutter finger and turn life into a monochromatic good/bad snapshot. Somewhere between the shadows of night and the blazing heat of the day there is a sweet spot of appreciation and subtlety, the gracefulness of tones and hue.
I tend to see things in all sorts of manifestations at once – as itself, as a picture, as a painting, as a poem. It’s not what I think of as a skill or an eye. It’s just how I see. Somehow, they all seem to simply BE there as I walk through life. I have this feeling it means my brain is working over time, which probably explains why it does other things less well!
I know the feeling, Tom!