Green

Most have a favorite,

One they are drawn to instinctively

Among the thousands they don’t care about.

Others are despised,

Avoided for reasons arbitrary and inexplicable

Perhaps due to personal convictions.

Judgement cast is never the fault of the pigment.

Color simply is,

Exists as itself,

Appreciated or ignored by everyone who takes it in.

Much like the world's opinions of me.

Tastes change.

Shades once unappreciated,

When placed in a different context may shine.

Tastefully muted may later be deemed bland.

Where once was beauty can turn to disgust,

Bold and extraordinary can become either garish or glowing.

I am not for everyone or every occasion

But I have my place and my role

When I am there,

I am just right.

The world does not need me,

My presence is not required to permit the flow of life,

But when I am a part of the orchestra I bring depth,

feeling and beauty,

I help tell a story.

Once I have been a part of the scenery it will seem empty without my touch.

Though all along I remain the same hue,

Perception of who I am changed in the eyes of observers;

Depending on the light,

The shadows,

The surroundings,

Or their own individual view of the world.

At times it is as though I can be two mutually exclusive opposites at once,

Coexisting with my other self in the same moment,

No certainty to onlookers about which one is accurately me.

Only I know the truth.

Experience inflicts gradients,

Brings saturation and dilution of my pigment,

I swing as a pendulum

From nearly white to dark as almost black,

Fluid transitions between variations of myself.

From darkness to bright

Every shade plays a role

Each variant tells a story.

I am green.

Life-giving,

As the cutting of a plant produces a new individual existence

So have I passed along of myself to create.

I am playful grass underfoot.

Overgrown trees,

My heavy branches provide shade and cool.

Soft moss,

cushioning and quieting.

Persistent weeds,

Pushing up through concrete,

Enduring,

Despite harsh conditions and opposition.

I am the tight buds emerging at the start of spring,

closed off as eager onlookers anticipate growth,

Holding the promise of change of seasons

A single color is beautiful,

Enough merit to stand alone,

But when blended,

When contrasted,

Sometimes delicate,

Others dramatic,

Color becomes a symphony.

Gathering with others who compliment my vibrancy,

Appreciating both contrast and differences,

Knowing when to gather close,

And when to graciously distance,

I bring my color,

Among thousands of colors,

To be a part of the living art that is all of us

Together we form a majestic creation.