Sitting at My Window on a Beautiful Day (with thanks to Robert Frost)

I sit in my cube, the window bare.
I look outside at what is there.
The clouds, the birds, the rain, the sun.
Such pretty things. I sit and stare.

Inside of me a war is run.
It aches my heart when even one
Of God's good children turns away.
From this good fight we've all begun.

Can't they see the beautiful way
That God's created the world today?
The things beheld from my window keep,
Fill me with joy as I make my way.

Please think to see and then to keep
The sacred things we hold so deep.
For at the end, ere we fall asleep
The beautiful things we all can reap.
The beautiful things we all can reap.
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