slow liquid

Glass is a slow liquid.
Its flow can be detected in old window panes,
wrinkled and dimpled like aged skin.

The wavy glass becomes a part of the view outside,
its imperfections adding to the sight
instead of delivering seamless invisibility.

But it is not always so transparent.
An old windowpane can be as impenetrable as a mirror,
deflecting all attempts to look inside.

If you pause, though, considering all the visions
that must have passed through that pane,
you might see through to a light within.

A waterfall would not be damaged by
a stone hurled through it. But a slow liquid
in a fast world is brittle and vulnerable.



with thanks to Do, from whose message I took the line about considering how many visions have passed through an old window