Glass Alphabet

The city whispers glass alphabets
to the fingers of plants sprouting through the cracks
of cold concrete, where time is silent
and echo pauses among threads of light
The leaves stretch thin fingers, learning the signs
on the plaster and on the edges of the crack, where rain falls quiet
transparent characters chime at the breath of the wind
transforming growth into a writing of breath
Every letter is an ice gem that brushes the bark
the concrete holds its breath, curious
roots follow sources of light, collecting words
the whisper becomes a map, trace of underground paths
Thus the city learns to speak with a vegetal voice
we watch, readers of the cracks
a new glass alphabetization takes shape
among the fingers of plants, between crack and sky