Windows

An azure blue sky
With clouds that billow.
I’ve picture frames in my mind,
As though seen through a window.

A gathering storm.
Our Lord’s wave beckons.
A window can be forlorn
Or offer promised lessons.

They keep out the rain.
They keep out the wind.
Some windows may shut in pain.
When will they ever open?

The last supper night.
A lonely vigil.
He saw our pictures of blight.
Pain, He alone to fulfill.

The Lord’s Disciples
Left us their pictures.
Of Jesus’ miracles.
There’s a view in our scriptures.

We, too, have windows.
And, lessons they’ve taught.
The place a gentle wind flows
To bless others more than not.

- President Monson

67, Nov 1989, Thomas S. Monson,
“Windows, ” Ensign