Two inches thick doesn’t seem like much.
Only five feet and ten inches tall,
The perfect size.
Seamless, smooth, and safe.
A strong defense, built over time,
Keeping everything out, and holding everything in.
It has only one flaw;
Everything inside is in plain sight.
No hidden details.
No disguises, no masks,
No facades, no sound.
The most colorful display set to the rhythm of
Suddenly, two inches seems like a mile,
No matter which way it’s seen through.
Everything on the other side is so close,
And yet so far.
Saltwater slides down the clear encasing
As senses long to be reunited.
Sight with sound, and most importantly touch.
But at what cost?
Harder than diamonds, and more valuable too.
What does it take to break
A glass wall?
From the outside looking in,
Is what’s inside worth the effort?
From the inside looking out,
Is what’s outside worth the risk?
Only a few accepted the challenge
With gentle love and warm light
And the softest touch imaginable.
It shattered in a moment,
And covered the ground in white.
Two inches doesn’t seem like much
For a near six foot glass wall.
Although successful at it’s job,
I wish it wasn’t there at all.