Colour of a Heart

Colour is central to all of our lives.

The survival of the entire animal kingdom depends on it.

Initially distinguished by our biological colour

—what makes us truly “unique” is,

the colour of our heart.

The spots on the blue poison dart frogs of Brazil,

The black and white stripes of each zebra grazing the Savanah,

The black and gold ring pattern on the cheeta’s tail—

Are the colourful equivalent of the human fingerprint

of each man, woman and child.

But what do we make of the colour of a heart?

One that has seen and been developed by love, loss, joy, and pain?

If we wake each day with vigour, what shade will our heart gain?

Will it bloom with radiance like the flowers of a meadow?

Will it shine like the rays of the sun?

Can it be dulled momentarily,

when pain and loss seep in?

Regain the pigment it was, forever and always,

—destined to become?

The colour of my heart, it is what most sets me apart.

It has devoured darkness and regurgitated a prism.

It stands out, above and beyond,

what a simple glance could capture.

It is persuasive, intoxicating, and bold.

The scars it bears, once an angry red—

have become a shiny silver,

like matured stretch marks.

As the flamingo develops over years into its pink colour,

by the richness of its diet.

As the mandrill matures into its bright red face and rump,

signifying its health and strength.

As the flatback lizard of Africa flourishes a metallic rainbow body,

because of its steady access to a blackfly diet.

My heart has done the same...

Only my heart has feasted on the colour of emotions—

that come from a life well lived.

What makes my heart most brilliant though,

is how much and what it gives.