Clear drops,
silently dot the
window-
each holding a
tiny, distorted version
of the world
on the other side
tiny, innocent droplets,
rolling gently down
the cold, hard, glass
catching hold of one
another, growing bigger,
twisting and turning
traveling slowly
down the panes
the tiny drops
keeping rhythm
with the pitter patter
of soft rain on the roof
mesmerizing everyone.
All stop and
take time to
watch the tear drops
from the sky
dot the window,
each holding a
miniature image
of the evils on
the other side.
The evils that,
in this moment,
mean nothing.
They just aren't
important now.
All that matters
are the mesmerizing
rainbows,
captured momentarily
in the slowly rolling drops
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