Through

There is a sky out there, all bright and blue,
free of shadows that try to follow me inside
on this cloudy, humid day, full of whispering songs.

Glass is see through, of course , I know,
but I see it all around me, dripping with heavy breath
leaving its wet soft sighs on the inside of my eyes.

Wrapping its hard walls all around my steps and height,
I touch the glass that sings its chorus night and day,
the harp of my dreams bright and dark.

Through and through, I reach out and beyond,
only to feel the glass push back, mute, indifferent,
to my longing to break out, away, these clear, dazzling walls.



Trudi Ralston.
June 1st, 2016.
The hardest chains to break are the ones that trap our mind.