Rainbow soul

Out of the womb it was red;

grasping, clutching, desiring, needing,

under those embryo lids

Maybe it was the warm hue,

comfort of mom’s belly,

for the months of growing, awash in veined blood

somehow the light coming through

that taught me red

Orb-like

Some fiery core

Red

Earliest shade of a passionate nature

this want of a colour

irresistible pull

but babies want what they want

Now red hangs in the windows,

a sheened fabric of japanese floral

glowing in the daylight with grass in the courtyard

just beyond

jewel tones of the eye

Purple of the 90s

hung on my arms

my grandma’s favourite

so it became mine

had it on while catching frogs in the creek

had it on at school in my fancy way

still had magenta with lace under denim

when i fell in love

A colour that calls to be seen,

as the spring covers the knolls

with insomniac violets

and suddenly on a fall morning

a purple bandana meets my eyes, laying on the ground

the colour of new england asters

Pagan sun

without a way

adorned in white and gold

by summer’s heat

as asphalt boiled

under moving shade

Market chatter, running heels

long swirling nights

and lockdown wards

Like innocence

but twisted up

just a shimmering mirage of virtue

too fast to catch

too wild to tame

too drunk on air

to touch the ground

Then there was the dream

of a rainbow in the blackness

every colour shining against the

absence of light beyond

Jewels of promise

Arc of glory

sharp turn toward the open sky

under sunshine and cloud

to the gardens where brilliance

is brightest

The faces of flowers and leaves,

every day they showed themselves

and the tones of light filtered

into the dim

Now, when i’ve cast my eyes

on the flowers and leaves

i see their shapes and forms

in kaleidoscopic array

behind my eyes,

as dreams begin

a steeping into sleep

no longer in the womb

my eyes have learned a world of rainbows

of blue birds of happiness

and bottles of orange blossom perfume

of the celestial bright in the glow of a poppy,

tulip, or cosmos

As years collect

and memories grow

i become not a baby who wants red,

not a child wearing purple,

not a false goddess of white and gold

but a rainbow soul

who seeks to shine the rainbow

on every soul

who has the prism

to catch the light

and be the rainbow too