The Light Is in the Glass

The afternoon light hits the room just right, illuminating a group laughing together while you stand behind a wall of silence that no one else can see. It feels like you are watching life through a thick pane of glass, close enough to hear the sound but too far to feel the warmth.

You came from the light, a drop sent to illuminate this very moment, even when it feels dark. The glass is real, but it is not permanent; it is just a distortion you are walking through.

Split a piece of wood or lift a stone, and you will find the light is already there, on the other side of your isolation. You do not have to break the wall to be held; the light is in the glass itself.

The silence is not a separation; it is the space where the light is waiting for you to remember you are still part of the song.