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Dec 27, 2012 13:53

The light coming in from my window depends on the time of the day.
In the morning, it mostly streams through the window on the side of the house, the rays sharp and bright as they glance over my sleeping figure.
I try to block them with a pillow or by turning my head, but they are still there, begging me to wake.
In the afternoon, the light hits the window of my room facing the front of the house out into the street where the kids play and the neighbors walk their dogs.
It's not so bright as it was before, and here I can sleep comfortably, if I must.
By night time, not many strands of gold seep through the cracks in my blinds, especially because it is winter now, and the days are short and the sun disappears all too soon.
Now, it's the moon's turn to glow and reflect upon my windows.
Sometimes I'll pull the blinds up all the way to invite him in with no interference.
Anywhere I will go in life, with different windows of shapes and places they rests in their different homes and locations, I will always take comfort that the same sun and moon will be watching me from above, trying to sneak their two very different shines into the crevices of my homes.
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