Healing through Colour.

Colour to me is what you can’t see,

Hidden within my intricacy,

Translucent spectrums behind my veil,

A meaning I once, feared to reveal.

Heavy crimson flames march my skull,

Spitting their orange, fire sign lull,

But once my sketchbook is ajar,

I see my thoughts for what they are.

Connecting through colour, I ask passers-by,

Met by reassurance in this intuitive life,

Bruised purple, stark, peeling gore,

I read the colours, that were once etched before.

On a train do you see colours still,

The brown faint tracks from when you were ill,

Oh so familiar, their primary needs,

But from this brown, red starts to bleed.

Blue and yellow are soon to follow,

Seeping my head, which was once so hollow,

Now home to rainbows, my colourful thoughts,

Primary colours are the most powerful force.

Are you a primary colour, or have you evolved,

Untangled the mess, you once were told,

I am an artist, I announce to the brush,

Colours respond, with a reassuring hush.

For what did I really, have to fear,

The colours have always been here.

I consider myself a lovely sage green,

At one with nature, I sit here in peace,

Healing through colour.