Outside

This poem is in honor of Mr. Brave New Life and his recent retirement.  I commend him, and seek to follow in his footsteps.  I am still inside the glass, for now.

It's just a pane of glass,
a foot or two upon a side,
it stands, immovable, and
you are still inside.

There is a world out there,
beyond the glass
and down the stairs,
with air, and sunshine,
sometimes rain, it's true,
there's nothing wrong with that.
(What's wrong with you?)

How did you get inside that pane of glass?
Who put you there, and fastened it so tight?
I bet there's red-marked Exit signs!
Just follow them - they'll always lead you right.

Outside there is no roof,
no lights except the Sun,
these things called trees
just grow here! One by one!

 This is, my friend, where you and I belong,
where wind and sun can dry our mildew soul,
with God's green earth to till and build upon
as all about us stars forever roll.