Colors of Us

We are the colors of rainbows. I created Native American music from my Native Choctaw heritage. I am mosaic of DNA and so fed up with MAGA

In the hush of morning skies,

Feathers dance and dreams arise.

Sweetie sings in silent hues,

Chachi walks in twilight blues.

Colors of us, not just what we see,

But the way we move, the way we breathe.

From mirror light to chasing feet,

We found a rhythm, soft and sweet.

Orange glows and gentle gold,

Stories shared, both shy and bold.

Years have brushed us into art,

Every shade a beating heart.

Colors of us, not just what we see,

But the way we move, the way we breathe.

From mirror light to chasing feet,

We found a rhythm, soft and sweet.

No script, no lines, just melody,

A song of love and memory.

From floor to flight, from bark to chirp,

We speak in tones the soul interprets.

Colors of us, painted in time,

In every glance, a silent rhyme.

From mirror light to chasing feet,

We found a rhythm, soft and sweet.

The villains tried to paint the world in grayscale

But the garden refused.

Petals bloomed in defiance,

Roots tangled in every shade of memory.

We are not beige.

We are not blank.

We are the riot of color that heals the soil.”

In the quiet of a room once new,

A bird saw herself and the world too.

Not in words, but in a gaze,

She found her voice in mirrored haze.

One with feathers, one with fur,

A chase, a pause, a gentle stir.

Not friends at first, but time would show,

Even opposites can grow.

We were never meant to be all white and male.

We were meant to be radiant, varied, and alive.

Nature doesn’t ask for permission to bloom in color.

It just does.

So do we.

My DNA carries continents.

My blood sings in many languages.

I love birds because they remember the sky.

I love symbols because they remember us.

I am not a checkbox. I am a mosaic.

written, created, edited by

Vicki Lawana Trusselli

Trusselli Art

copyright 2025

California