it all started with glass.
the windows in the prayer room, the stained windows to be precise.
sunlight beaming through the holy stained figures which stand upright on the huge panes.
a vision of the school track field occupies another place in my heart, green grass surrounds me,
the air is sharply sweet as i take a breath.
with my hand shielding my eyes away from the infectious sun rays, i look towards the infinitely crystallite blue sky.
i am speechless.
the holy stained images look heavenly against the pure backdrop of the sky, nothing can take that away from my memories.
it continues to burn in my mind.
as the images capture the sun's beams of life, i follow a line and find that,
admist the dew-covered blades of green grass,
a solitary jar stands.
a simple, forgotten jar left behind by a naive schoolgirl.
wishing for a butterfly to make its home in it,so that she would be able to gaze at its gentle fluttering of wings so fragile.
the glass has captured the sun's life,
thus staining it.
the little jar lifts its eyes and looks towards the heavens, thanking them.
this is the story of the sun-stained jar.
