Clair de Lune

Blue

Green

Brown

These mosaics of colors

fill the windows of the soul

Blue

invites you on a journey across the Great Lakes

after the ice has melted

She rides in on Dawn--a magnificent mare

She is a canvas for the new day,

a prelude to the bluebird's song

Her tears give life to

Green

The rarest pigment, a mythical gem

Generation after generation

morphes and mutates this color

If by chance your eye finds this window

you will glimpse a divine world our ancestors

carried in whispers around the fire;

Eden, Shangri-La, Avalon

But green is born

from brown

Brown

Soil. Clay. Mud. Humanity's bed

This planet's skin, muscle, organs

Layers upon layers daunt you,

halting the first steps of your journey.

But the worlds you could discover

if you keep digging!

She holds creation, history, memory,

bones

Except her eyes...

Her blue-grey eyes match the sky and sea--

the birthplace of Venus

Lightning rings her pupils

She holds a storm in her soul

Is her storm ending

or beginning?

Dare to peer--no, gaze--through her windows

You will find a dirt stain in her left eye

grounding her to earth,

exposing her human mortality

and erasing whispers of divine birth

Hurl a stone from the ocean's edge

into her stain glass windows

Dare to traverse the storm

that is the human soul

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