.g.l.a.s.s. .h.e.a.r.t.

slide open the door,

dip the rod in the blaze

and scoop up a glob.

the Creator.

He molds the molten glass,

not unlike the rock that shaped the earth.

an island.

it is a glint of something more

in a sea of nothingness,

the shop.

the glowing mass takes His form

as rolling and stretching seizes it,

wear and tear shape it

into something truly beautiful.

the Glassblower.

taking cue from the wind,

He breathes life into

the glass heart.

the crowd.

they ooh and ahh

at the marvel.

it sprang into being

right before their very eyes.

the Maker holds up a finger,


brings it to His lips,


then points at His creation.


the crowd waits with bated breath

to see the miracle occur.

the glass begins to cool.

eyes fasten on the wonder.

what colour will it be?

clear? the epitome of pure?

pink? to see the world through rosy glass?

red? an item of passion?

blue? calm skies and sea?

green? purple? black? gold?

the suggestions come pouring out

from the murmur of onlookers.

a gaggle of children climb over themselves

to get a peek

as the Creator gazes lovingly at His work,

touching it lightly to test that it has cooled.

hold it up to the light!

young ones shriek and giggle with anticipation.

yes, yes, let us see!

the clamor grows with the tension of suspense.

He smiles, obligingly, and reaches for the masterpiece.

it wobbles.

the crowd gasps,

and all is silent

as it falls off the table

and shatters

into a million pieces.

a/n- i usually don't ask for comments, but any comments or constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated. i hope to submit this to my school's magazine. thanks for reading! xoxo-xan