Analysis of Through the window, ajar

Through the window, ajar,
I pause and stare,
at the moveable feast of creation,
high up in the sky,
The Master Painter, intensely at work.  

Frescos and air brushes on vast canvasses,
A swirling current of clouds I saw,
What a majestic sweep of eternity,
Blue and white scattered across the heavens,
I chanced upon the sky.

It was an overwhelming moment,
too much to comprehend and appreciate,
I tiptoed my thoughts back into my dungeon,  
back to my routine of mindless drudgery
maybe another day, this world of Art !