Glass Heart

As I ride through the city and stare out the bus window
Glorious light, pooling into the moving machine
Lighting up my eyes for the first time in a while
I write this in the light of a day, consisting of mourning
Mourning of the soul
Keeping my gaze on the world outside the window
The fast moving blur of objects
I write this, with a silent hand
My pen etching a picture of words
I yawn in happiness
For once excluding my other feelings
Smiling a genuine smile of satisfaction at my accomplishments
This is how things should be, should it not?
The vehicle stops abruptly and I shift my smile to the driver
Flashing him the brilliance of my sudden happiness
I climb out gracefully, allowing my sneakers to touch the cement of the well paved sidewalk
I stride down the pavement
Carrying my notepad and my fine tip ink pen
Jotting down the beauty of the trees
Empty of leaves in this crispy winter season
And I smile again, this time at a passerby
Light radiating from me, spreading from me
As if I was the source of all daily joy
Spinning on my heel I walk back the way I came
Whistling tunelessly to, not myself, but to the world
Smiling that same toothy, glowing smile
Continuing to write in my slanted way
Curling the words around the lines as I sketch them
Smiling. Glowing. Happy. Being happy.
And I wake up shivering
Clutching the small glass heart to my chest
The small glass heart that I received what seems like so long ago
And I stand up, releasing another shiver through my body as I smooth out my tank top
Walking to the window and pulling down a blind I smile
As glorious light pours into the room
Lighting up my eyes as I continue to smile, for the first time in years