A finger printed window sits between me and the world
Making it fuzzy.
Nothing identifies uniqueness.
On the other side
Life soars and sings
Expanding and exhaling.
The air is thick filled with honey
Embracing an embarking.
Each look, movement, thought, and sound
Coaxes connection.
But I am on the other side
Where dullness hardly dances.
One angsty chord in the music of the backdrop
One memory
One word in one voice
One heartbeat of hope
One heartbeat of delight
One heartbeat of sorrow
One heartbeat of longing
Millions of raindrops make
One song.
Each One pushes against the glass.
I feel the spontaneity of rhythm.
Is its push bold enough,
Strong enough
To crack the glass?
So that
The angsty chord moves to the front,
The heartbeats pulse alive,
The memory impacts this moment,
I catch waves of the word to see what’s inside the voice.
Will the Living Water seep still into my cells
Or drop staccato?
Will it come with a burst or shatter?
Will the Breath of Life expand may lungs
Or settle to a still?
When the pulse on the glass beckons,
What do I do?
What should I do?
Is it possible
To set the glass down and see?