Stain glassed window- Nette Onclaud, 6-11-2026, all that glass
Noone asks the glass
how many times it was broken
before it learned to hold the light
blue for the mornings
I almost gave up
glad for the small joys
that found me anyway
green for the places
I outgrew in silence
red for the words
I never read aloud
from far away
it looks whole
closer
you can see every crack
where something sharp
once passed through
yet, the sun enters
still. the room is changing
still, the darkness turns bright
in the quiet air
and shadows soften
where the colors fall
maybe this is how healing starts
not as a perfect pane
clear and unscathed
but as pieces gathered
after shattering
each one holding color
each one remembering its pain
each one gives back light
in a shape
only the wounded
could make beautiful
and when the evening comes
the colors don't fade away
they wait quietly in the shadows
like someone holding her breath
until the morning sun finds them
and they shine once again
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