Against the Glass

I sat gently still against my window pane,

Watching droplets trace their silver paths,

Each one a story, each one a refrain

Of storms that passed and quiet aftermath.

The world beyond blurred soft in morning mist,

Trees swaying like dancers in the gray,

While here inside, in solitude I kissed

The peaceful start of yet another day.

My breath fogged glass in gentle, fleeting clouds,

A temporary mark upon the clear,

Like whispered thoughts too soft to speak aloud,

But precious still to those who hold them dear.

The window held me, cradled in its frame,

Between the world outside and world within,

A threshold where both stillness and the rain

Could teach me where my truest peace begins.