Kaleidoscope Soul

Yellow is the supposed color of my skin, a mystery to me still

when the reality is always somewhere between black and white and in this case more

ochre, bronze, peach or tan

but never brown. I have learned we are not allowed to say brown

even if it's there in laser perfect certainty of the black

lettering on the smooth-rough wrapper of the crayon I hold: light brown

that is the closest shade to my current sun-kissed self

nowhere yellow even though that is what the very yellow-bellied, yellow-jealous men called other men who looked different, talked different, ate different but worked same.

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I am also brown in the eye I look out with -- with it I see every color

the relentless change of landscape seascape skyscape and cityscape

character changing like magic mystery full of hope and danger

makes my insides turn colors too crystal clear inside my head

peace in the nature greens

turmoil before calm of the ocean grays

crimson jolt in the dance lights and headlights danger

midnight blue at night and beyond that darkness all color sucked into fear.

in this all the colors I spy, the colors I feel, the colors I cry--are they the same in the people whose heads shine gold not raven; whom if I hurt would still bleed red, spit white, love purple

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Emerald upon my crowning. E-mer-ald even sounds pretty

glistens unwavering green. infinite depth without cave secrets

too honest a little harsh maybe. That cuts green and begets avarice

too singular. instead imagine

jewel-tones of ruby topaz amethyst pearl and so on

s my soul shifts and spins and circles and falls

like whimsy under a squinted eye mesmerized but how can you pick just one color

it's a pattern don't you see

little gems tumble fall bump and mix and create this endless medley. No preconceptions or labels to a color if it is alive. You and I we all have rocks inside and we move around colors we are the colors please won't you look in not out.

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