Kindred Spirits

Pocahontas asked if you can see the colors of the wind. I ask if you can see the color of life, the colors of your friends. I am an artist and there are some colors that seem like they don’t go well together. Yet if you add a bit of white or black, the hue changes, and suddenly the two colors are absolutely perfect together. This poem is to thank all my friends for contributing to the dusk in my life.

Oranges and pinks colored the sky,
Washing the pastel blue away.
Then the mighty brush stroke it black
With twinkling stars above

Slumber overtook me
Calling me to Morpheus’ realm
And yet I see the paint strokes of before

The colors of dusk reflected in the Irish sea –
The wind in my hair
My soul resting on the mountain of Orme

The colors of dusk sounded in Victoria Falls –
The thunderous roars echoed in my ears
Mist raining over me, reviving my soul

The colors of dusk follow where I tread –
A color attaches to those close
Igniting a bright, colorful painting ahead.
No two hues are alike.

Symphony of colors composed up above –
Taking two mismatched shades,
Two shades that many will dismiss as together.
Yet with the right coloration
It is a beautiful artwork.

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