Glasshouse

There’s a glasshouse on a hill.
People pass by and appreciate its beauty.
They wonder though why it remains empty.

Some visit the space from time to time.
Checking what’s inside.
They come along but they always realise the glasshouse seems so cold to stay overnight.

Until one time a young man with a lamp barged in.

The glasshouse was used to gentle knocks but not by visitors with flames within.
Surprised the glasshouse opened all of its doors.
Defying the flames that melt the icy corridors.
Warmth and light illuminated the walls, ceiling and floor.

The village rejoiced.
Alas the glasshouse turned from shades of white and blue to a spectrum of hues.
Everyone noticed, everyone cheered.

But the lamp he brought wasn’t meant for a long term thing.
Like some who tried to reached the top of the hill, they turn their back once the fire needs a little more effort to sustain its constant heating.

Despite the glasshouse’s yearning, it cannot force anyone to stay on top of the hill.
The glasshouse was left with nothing but cracks out of collission of fire and ice.

The seasson will change and snow will fill the cracks or hope to find a way to let all the ice go.

Until then this glasshouse will mourn on top.
Awaiting for a strong hunter to roam.
Hoping the next will be more than just a pit stop.
Until the day this glasshouse turns into someone’s home.

XX

Not So Ordinary People

Regular people either get a halt or a nod.
In highways, we either move in green,slow down in orange and heed to red for a full stop.
There’s that dancing man who signals you when exactly to cross and you have a clock to beat.
The streets will always provide a whistle or a beep.

There’s always a prompt.
You always get life as it is.

But maybe I am no regular.

Cos other people get a yes or a no.
A hi or just go.
Hang on or let go.
There’s always a clear yes or no.

I’d like to put it in a way that I see the good in this crazy life.
Would rather succumb to this delight than be eaten by the greyness of the night.
Laugh in the dark.
Shake off all the fright.

Maybe the One UP THERE loves to see the beauty I throw up in the midst of obscurity.
To be stuck in in-betweens and unsettling I don’t know’s.
Maybe the angels are giggling when I stay quiet by this sheer ambiguity.
as others receive a moving on note …I get a laugh and an innocent nope.

They say rejection is mean and bad and unfair.
I guess the absence of answer is some cross they never had the chance to bear.

xx