The light from the garish stained glass
seeps through my splintered window pane
illuminating the dim room with colors so
magnificent it could salvage a broken heart
the subtle but powerful hues remind me of when I was a child
everything so innocent and so sweet
Not a trace of flushed red cheeks when I was younger no,
I was not angry, nor was I sad
Meditative breathing just to calm myself down
repeating mantras as I rub the beads of my Mala bracelet
I guess when you grow older life gets harder
thats just the way it is.
I tell this to myself everyday
Everyday I want to weep but the bitter tears that used to stain my face
with cheap mascara have refrained me from even the littlest drop of sadness
The feelings just sit inside my tired bones and accumulate but theres no precipitation
Yet there is still no sunshine only cloudy days.
So the next time I get to see light from stained glass trickle through my splintered window pane
I will be grateful because it may be the last sunshine I ever see.