Peering out before the sun
All things in sight are wonderful,
But not one quite like this angel
A woman of perfect look and grace
Eyes bright and hair flowing with the wind
Sometimes she sees me
Our eyes meet through the glass
Speaking all on their own in some divine tongue
Day after day these conversations go
And the soul takes hope all the more,
Yet a real word never passes through
The clear barrier restricts the soul's yearning
Coming so close now your breath and mine fog the picture,
But as we wipe it away our hands meet
Sharing warmth for the first time.
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