A Gentle Swing

I climbed down from the sofa arm and walked toward the tall window where the morning light pooled. Dangling just above the painted sill was a small faceted crystal prism hanging from a clear thread. I stopped to watch the bright dots of red and violet scattered across the white wood. Reaching up with both hands, I nudged the cool glass point. It swung in a slow, silent arc. Tiny patches of rainbow began to slide across the wall and over my bare toes, gliding back and forth like bright little minnows. I stood very still, letting the colors sweep over me until the crystal settled.