The Little House In The Pane Poem by Dennis Lange

What is it out your window waits,
On which you fondly gaze,
With eyes that see it in the yard,
Or through the future's haze?

While standing there at windowsill,
What's in your silent stare?
What draws you like a distant drum
Whose throbbing fills the air?

You're mulling when to venture forth,
On what to set your sights,
What's offered in the world for you
Beneath the starry nights.

In all this wide world's vast array
Of splendors, charms, and themes,
Make certain you don't settle for
Big windows, little dreams.