Glass

There is glass in this world.
You can't see the glass until you run into it - your's or someone else's.
And when you do - when you run into it like a child roaring into the kitchen from the yard for some icecream only to find the patio door is closed and you did not stop-
It hurts.
You and the glass...both hurt.
You smart with embarrassment that people are laughing and fussing...
all you really wanted was icecream.
It was hot and you were filled with the blinding joy of icecream.
And the glass vibrates and smudges.
Do not smudge my glass - it is clean and perfect - Do not smudge my glass
If you do they will notice
They will look closer - And if they look they will see
They will see beyond the glass into my messiness.
You slide down the glass with a thud - thinking that you didn't know, didn't care about the glass....
You cared deeper - you were thrilled by the possibilities that were inside.
Thrilled by the wonder: Chocolate, Vanilla - gasp Neapolitan!
And now, you, and by you I mean I, maintain the glass - protect it.
Forgetting the loss of joy or the embarassment that the glass causes ...
You, and I mean I, no longer run with glorious abandon into mystery
You wait and walk away ...
Or maybe you peer in when no one is looking.
I say rip open the door and suffer the consequences!
You, I mean I, will fight the war of the glass in this world.
Fight the windex people and let the world see your stuff....
Ok -
Maybe just a crack...
But you, I mean you, have a better chance of getting inside if my glass is open just a crack rather than sealed tight...
Right?
And I will open your glass door which you have cracked...
And then maybe we can stop washing our windows.