beyond the glass part 1 and 2

part I Reflected dripping memories Trickle down my window-like soul Beyond my fingertips that I press Against the ice cold glass hopelessly Imagining how wet it must feel To caress these drops of innocence I trace their path Down… Across…. and finally till The window sill I reach And the splintered wood of reality Sticks my sorry flesh reminding me That I can only wish to follow further These drops now cascade down the Blood like crimson bricks And down into the vacant garden below Saturating the dead flowers whose petals Have waited so long for the taste of rain So longer will I have to wait, too For the sun now breaks and sadness Fills my remorseful, lonely dreams Which yearn for hapless clouds To cry for me and bear the fluid love That traps the light of tomorrow In tiny prisms of dewy yesterday..... partII But no this sun wins and I fade Backing off the weeping pressed sand Referred to by churches as windows But secretly known to me as illusions Which taunt me with their ever refracting tricks As in angst I rescind back into the shadows That envelop the cemetery I call home My apartment where the only light Comes from the very window which Sets high above the mortar that dives Into the soil of demise that pretends To offer respite to weary dried up stems Posing as flowers but really nothing More they are than weeds like me...