Looking Out the Window

I keep looking out the window, hoping to find an answer.

I watch the seasons affect the trees, the clouds, the light hitting the buildings.

Every day the view is different but everything else stays the same.

Now the days are shorter, the temperature is colder.

One year after, and I still look out that window, hoping to find an answer. As if the clouds were magically going to change their form and say: “You’re meant to be doing this”.