Outside World

I sit behind thin glass,
looking out into the world,
as drops of water come within inches of my face,
My arms,
and legs,
feel the chill through the walls,
goosebumps rising on my skin.
The wind blows hard,
the branches of the trees swaying together,
as if dancing to a fast beat,
At the feet of the trees,
old crumbly leaves from before winter's start,
roll on the ground,
fly in the air,
as if magic touches them gently,
and pushes them further,
to continue their dance,
Even my eyes cannot capture the whole beauty,
of the world on the other side,
of the thin glass,
As I rest my hand on the cold surface,
I feel the chill through my body,
an icy finger that gently carresses my spine,
a cold wave the overcomes my muscles,
and I am forced to pull my hand back,
allowing a heat to return to its place,
But the water keeps coming,
and the trees keep dancing,
and magic still lifts the old crumbly leaves,
Until behind the clouds,
a light peeks through,
warming all that was cold,
The water stops falling,
the trees slow their dancing,
and the leaves die off,
allowing beautiful green babies to take their place,
I step out into the new warmth,
from behind my thin glass,
into a new scene,
a scene of spring.