The Glass Man

Sitting by the lake cabin, staring
Sounds of a craftsman working at his bench… echoing
Smells of sawdust, rubber, plastic closeby… floating
But I could only vaguely make out the vast, “Phthalo-green” curtains in the distance
Contrasted against an even more vast, folly-colored wall
Small blurry ants in the sky
What was I here for again? What was I here to do? to see?
And why are there ants in the sky?
Then someone gave me a pair of glasses
And everything became clear
Sounds of the lake, rippling
Smells of the breeze, cleansing
Took over the clanging, ringing cacophony
The stuffy, smothering “cacophonous” odors
The curtains were “Pakistan green” mountains
The ants, larks flying in the “Alizarin crimson” sky
Heart stopped
Breath stuck
I lost all words
And none were needed
I sought the person who gave me those glasses
But instead, he introduced me to another
Another to whom he had just given glasses
Another with whom I could enjoy the new-found clarity of the scenery
Heart stopped
Breath stuck
We sat together until the sun was down
No words spoken
And none were needed
Then the lights went out
The two of us were closed away
In a box on a shelf
Safe shelter from the rain
Waiting to bring joy on someone’s birthday
Or maybe Christmas…we can’t know
But more than anything
We waited for when the sun would come out again
And we could enjoy the scenery again
Together with our new glasses
We could see each other again
And more than anything
In everything
we would be able to catch glimpses, hints
Of the one who gave us glasses
And maybe next time, we can finally meet him
Face to face

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