Through large arched windows
Mountains stroke clouds in the distance.
A magical presence
Filters through earth and sky.
Trees of the forest grow from spirits passed.

Through large arched windows
Sun casts no shadows on the meadow.
Not far from the hills
The lake houses creatures of all kinds.
Flower’s perfume scents the air.

From behind arched windows
The wizard sits, peacefully watching.
A quill in hand
He writes of the world he’s created.
Time overlooked atop his tower.

Jonathon Best© 2009