Gentle rolling was heard past the paper thin walls.
What had caused that rolling sound?
A rolling chair?
A fallen can rolling across the floor?
But, I was told not to inquire.
Inquiries would harm my famished mind.
How I laughed at the thought.
The blue window was open;
Blue freedom awaited.
But, when would I taste such freedom?
I am merely a single thread wrapped around tempered glass,
Unable to fully understand my surroundings.
The sky- a blue sky- sang.
The blue-jays listened with such intense curiosity.
How amusing it was!
The sky could sing;
It would sing to me.
Why sing to little old me?
“Pay attention, my dear,” the brown teacher would command with her apathetic demeanor.
I came back to the tempered glass.
There they all sat- beings made of potassium, calcium, fat, and the color yellow.
They stood between the sunset and sky.
I smiled a red smile.
They all dreamed, but refused to accept the reality behind the opal dream.
The glass was their dream, their reality.
The sky sang louder:
“Jump through the blue window, drink the cup of life, and breathe in the scent of death”
There was something we were all missing,
“My dear, again?”
The blue window was open!
I was so close to it;
Could I just simply slip through it?
Slip through this world made of tempered glass just once.
I breathed in deeply; my red heart raced quickly.
The freedom I had dreamed of tasting,
There it was!
Such ecstasy it was to dream of that simple freedom.
I slipped through.
The glass world broke in two.
I awoke beside an olive tree between the sunset and the sky.
The sky no longer sang.