Chromaticity

virginia creeper evening

 

She fought it hard, this slow death.

Every photosynthetic

cell that relinquished its green

became the Enemy – each

sag, each ache, each decaying

limb strangled her dreams with dry

rot, made hope a withered thing.

.

The colour came later, much

later, apologetic

at first, drops of iodine

swirling in a glass. One day

she woke up amber;

one more dying struggle, one

further convulsive release

and scarlet draped her shoulders.

.

Now one with the world’s sunsets,

her fight is no longer with

the pain that has painted her

so robust a shade. No, she

lives, dying, more alive than

ever before, breathing air

tinged gold, dreaming newer dreams,

intensely saturated

with expectant undertones.

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Autumn’s Resumé

spirea

 

She coaxes colours, harvests dreams,

Tickles fancies, freezes streams,

Slows to ponder living’s ways,

Sets the average ablaze.

Full-Spectrum Brilliance

dazzling.jpg

Disillusionment wraps warped tentacles in flesh

and drags her to Marianas Trench.

She’s been chasing the pot of gold

at the end of sopping rainbows,

concluding that

Life just doesn’t want to be lived,

not the way it was drawn

in her limited edition compilation of Grimm’s tales.

Submerged,

not daring to breathe,

she finally sees the Light –

and He is beautiful,

tangible,

with eyes as blue as the seas

and smile as dazzling as the lightning

that shames the dark.

A love so purely crimson,

a strength so gorgeously verdant,

a mind so violet in its superiority

wraps her with a golden glow,

a sunset’s blush.

She sees that

chasing rainbows is but

clutching broken bits,

segments split into infinite bands of separate strands,

and is captured,

enamoured,

mystified,

entranced

by the wholeness,

the boundless energy and electricity

of

Full-Spectrum brilliance…

True Colours

snowblowerrainbow

A flash of dizzying brilliance –

and rainbows arc and dance,

Science defying gravity.

Remove the Light,

and the mystery implodes;

a vortex of chaotic, gaping grief-space

unlit,

unloved,

falls by warped way-side.

But once rainbows are born,

first-born suns illuminate

the pain-place,

and Wounded walk,

painted in surreal stripes,

labelled

True Colours…