Everything, But

Isn’t it strange,

how color seems to change

As we ponder the palette of all things,

What new truth it brings

Seeing is believing,

Though what is behind the Being?

See, color works in a mysterious play,

As we say

The apple is red, the sky is blue,

The sunflower is yellow, and You?

Well, You have color, too

But wait! There is a hidden truth wishing to unfold

Are things definitively what we have been told?

In the way the human eye perceives the leaf of the tree,

Through light rebounding off an object and returning to Thee

By this perspective,

Isn’t everything reflective?

And if leaves look green,

Does this not mean that they are every color but green?

Does this give space,

For a new perceived place?

If the apple is all colors but red,

Then do I make this all up in my head

That the sunflower is yellow?

And what about sky blue?

Are you, too,

a figment of my imagination?

Is your truth more a blend of some co-creation?

Come to think, what about the people I see?

Are they truly what I recognize them to be?

Or can I set them free,

By acknowledging them as aspects of me?

Does God lie behind the scenes,

In all the colors of these dreams?

And in the end,

Where do I pretend to be,

And what does that make me?

Do I stand in individuality?

A human with curtains drawn,

Windows closed, and doors shut

Or am I everything, but?