PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I sometimes just went and watched them. I can remember how beautiful, interesting, delicate they all seemed. I can remember my grandmother´s Swarovski‎ decoration collection. They stood in a large crystal shelf rack. The truth is, it was probably not as tall and impressive as I remember, but to my young self, it just seemed like a palace of light. The rack was very close to a window, which let the light pass through this crystal decorations. This, allowed me to see the colors dancing; special in the morning when the sun shined brightly and directly through that big panel window in her apartment. But, more than the lovely colored light, I enjoyed the stories this small pieces of crystal told me. My grandmother´s collection was the best story book I´ve ever been given. Although we, my grandmother and I, never spoke about them, we both knew it. I was only given permission to see, to admire this pieces. The bears, the cakes, the frogs, the flowers were just so wonderful. But I did more than just watching, I touched them too. I felt the edges of the pink frosting on the cake, the  kitten´s tiny sharp ears, the ladybug´s black eyes. I fully experienced them, I almost felt like they talked to me and were telling me breathtaking stories every time I played with them. I think my grandmother knew about my mischief, but she never said a word (although what I was doing was utterly prohibited). Frankly, I believe she enjoyed it as much as I did. What could be more emotional, personal, adorable, more satisfying than to see your reflection on someone else? Your favorite (and only) granddaughter and your marvelous collection dancing together in her imagination; I don´t think it can be better than that. To this day, I have no clue where that collection is. There´s a chance the pieces were sold during hard times; there´s a chance they were given away because of all the memories they carries. There´s chance that they are laying in a box somewhere in my grandmother´s basement. And there is also a chance that I will never know because, to us, those decorations were never something to talk about , rather, something we felt , something we experienced. In my mind, I can still see and feel, that light, bright and colorful crystal palace. I just close my eyes and feel the light pass through them, through me.