Color Songs

Everything has a color
the rich hues of passion and desire,
the bright yellows of hope,
the blues. Oh yes, the blues.

The red, full of energy and fire,
the soft aqua of a laid back soul,
the intensity of black, a
all of it, a song for the eyes,

each brush stroke,
each shirt chosen,
every flower in our garden,
sings

In a language we often understand
only slightly,
like our high school french,
half forgotten, half unlearned,

singing to us like a foreign ballad,
half understood, yet
somehow still touching our hearts.

About this poem

You can ask my children. I did not discover color in my life until I was older, until I moved to Vermont, actually. I lived in places with white walls. I wore white shirts, or at best, muted colors, faded shirts and grays. My art was pen and ink. Black and white. Now and then a I added a splash of color – a bright tie, Winnie the Pooh socks, but for the most part, I lived a colorless life. I didn’t miss color. I just didn’t embrace it.

What about Vermont brought me to color? Where my house is blue, my walls are painted in shades of yellow, green, burgundy, and gold? Where the shirts I wear often are bright and crackling with energy? Where my art has become all about color?

Love perhaps? Because I came her to be near the woman I love. A change of place? Because I had lived in Virginia my first 54 years and moving up here was a big change. Being surrounded by other artists? Because here in Southwest Vermont, it’s an amazingly creative culture. A renewal of faith? Because my divorce was also a test of faith, and coming out on the other side had me lean on a God who is introduced to us first as the great creator?

I have no idea why. I do not need to know. I just embrace it, gratefully.

Today, everything has color. Not just the world around me. But emotions. Thoughts. I rarely talk about it, but it’s so. And, I think, it shows.

Tom

PS – The picture above is called Manhattan Sidewalks.