If asked by the glassmaker or another being existing not in this reality, would I want the fractures fixed, built back into the essence of myself? I would say no.

What encompasses and mediates the space between the light sources, so grand and distant, and ancient as the light we see, we experience, we bow and pray to, may not exist anymore? What do we tell ourselves when the worshipped deity died minutes or years ago, and did not hear the plea that we made?