At this time, my eyes get hungry. I start to wish on the winter moonlight. I'm wishing there because the pale yellow is the most color that nature is offering me on these cabin fever nights.
I have to remind myself . . . to lighten, to brighten. The insidious lack of color has happened minute by minute, hourly. It’s gray dimness slowly siphons my positive disposition. A tremor, a turbulence, no . . . a timbre, that’s barely heard, whines over the lake, wondering . . . where they put them, who took them . . . the blue of the sky in day, the white of clouds hanging over it, the warm yellow sun shining love in wide opening rays, and that’s just what the lake sees is missing.
I’m feeling the loss of a lot more than that.
Red, give me the red of a cardinal in a tree that is lush with green, green leaves. I don’t need scarlet or crimson. Red, real red, the genuine article. What would it take for a cardinal to come visit for few minutes, please?
Like a bird that flies, my imagination comes to my rescue with a box of nature’s crayons and a play set of finger paints in the brightest shades.
I imagine a garden like Monet painted, all splashes, and pushes, and strokes, and get all stoked up just thinking of words to describe it. Reds, and yellows, and blues, and every shade of green, green leaves. Colorful crayon colors make room for a path to walk in between. Pinks, and oranges, and whites fill up every open space that there might have been.
I am typing rainbow words. I am breathing technicolor air.
The ultimate center of this kaleidoscope of exuberance is a special flower that’s been caught in a soft, summer rain. It stands open holding on to every drop of water with a gentleness only a flower can muster for holding bits of rain.
They call it a blue flower, but it’s not. I learned my colors when I first had crayons.
I cup my hands under it, and I think Yep there’s a reason that purple flowers are my favorite. No other color fills me up quite the same.
I have to remind myself . . . to lighten, to brighten. The insidious lack of color has happened minute by minute, hourly. It’s gray dimness slowly siphons my positive disposition. A tremor, a turbulence, no . . . a timbre, that’s barely heard, whines over the lake, wondering . . . where they put them, who took them . . . the blue of the sky in day, the white of clouds hanging over it, the warm yellow sun shining love in wide opening rays, and that’s just what the lake sees is missing.
I’m feeling the loss of a lot more than that.
Red, give me the red of a cardinal in a tree that is lush with green, green leaves. I don’t need scarlet or crimson. Red, real red, the genuine article. What would it take for a cardinal to come visit for few minutes, please?
Like a bird that flies, my imagination comes to my rescue with a box of nature’s crayons and a play set of finger paints in the brightest shades.
I imagine a garden like Monet painted, all splashes, and pushes, and strokes, and get all stoked up just thinking of words to describe it. Reds, and yellows, and blues, and every shade of green, green leaves. Colorful crayon colors make room for a path to walk in between. Pinks, and oranges, and whites fill up every open space that there might have been.
I am typing rainbow words. I am breathing technicolor air.
The ultimate center of this kaleidoscope of exuberance is a special flower that’s been caught in a soft, summer rain. It stands open holding on to every drop of water with a gentleness only a flower can muster for holding bits of rain.
They call it a blue flower, but it’s not. I learned my colors when I first had crayons.
I cup my hands under it, and I think Yep there’s a reason that purple flowers are my favorite. No other color fills me up quite the same.
− me strauss Letting me be
6 comments:
"I am breathing technicolor air"
i like that. :)
i like colours too, i like Monet, Mondrian, Klee & Pollock and all who open my eyes to colour. but when i write, most times are in shades of grey. :)
Hi Dsnake,
It would be fun to see you take out the finger paints to write with. I wonder what you might find if you did. :)
You have this knack for picking out my favorite line. That's mine too. :)
i can give it a try. :)
Ah, Dsnake,
A risk taker! YEA!!
That would be cool,
Go paint the sky a different color. :)
Liz, your post reminds me of a sweater I have. It has every color you can think of in it, all twirled and twisted together. I keep it for dressing up on special occasions. Your post is reminding me that mid-winter is a very special occasion. I'm going to bring it out and wear it more often. :)
Hi Dawn,
A colorful sweater like that is a perfect foil for mid-winter gray. I would find a reason wear it at least once or twice in February. I bet folks will compliment you on it and smile when they see it.
You will be doing a service to the eyes of the world. :)
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