Red

I am Red.

Mostly, I am Red because Red is what exists in the core of something,

in the heart of a thing that cannot be turned off,

no matter what forces exist to cover it up.

I am Red because I burn.

I burn to be released. I burn to be seen. I burn to set the world on fire.

I burn to show my Yellow light.

I am Yellow.

I have never been more Yellow.

Surrounding all of my Red, the true case that it's in is:

Yellow.

The Yellow that delights in everything it shines on.

The Yellow that turns shadow into smiles simply by smiling on it itself.

The Yellow that is life,

And the Pink that the Yellow gives permission to be.

The Pink that is uncertain.

The Pink that is bashful.

The Pink that is hopeful,

uncertain,

unjaded,

unhurt so far by the garden it grows in.

But Pink cannot be Pink forever.

Even where there are remnants of Pink inside me, they are covered by a shade of:

Blue.

I swim in Blue.

Submerged in Blue.

The Blue that says, "Watch out--everything may not be as it seems."

"I've come down on every wave, and I know there's always a bottom."

"Wait, and the tide will always take you in."

Not cynical,

but wise,

ancient,

old, like the Blue that makes its way around the world through both pattern and chance,

and knows that it will come home again,

every time.

Oh, but how I long to be Green!

The Green that the Blue goes 'round and nourishes!

The Green that takes the wisdom of Blue and the bashfulness of Pink and builds something that breathes life!

The Green that is rooted! The Green that is happy!

The Green that soaks up its nutrients from the ground below and the sky above.

The Green that is thriving.

But alas, I am also Indigo.

I sit between the wisdom of Blue

and the rage of red.

My Indigo says that I have seen the world.

I have seen catastrophe.

I have been unlucky.

I have made it back,

but I have left much of me behind.

I push, I passion, I rage, I temper,

and yet, I am never promised freedom,

or life.

I see the sun rise,

and fall again.

And again,

and again,

I thrust myself upwards

against the ceiling, and cast my glow on it.

I push, and squeeze, and stretch.

I should not be trapped,

but I am.

But I am-

I am Red.

And I am Yellow.

And I am Pink, and Blue, and I wish to be Green.

I am Indigo, as my Red crashes against my Blue and a creates a creature of cynicism.

My Pink hides from my Indigo in Blue's shadow.

And my Red burns over it all.

And in it all.

And through it all.

And from it's core.

My core. It burns. It shines.

At my core, my colors find their anchor. Bow down. Dip themselves in the melting pot and come together.

At my core, I am not afraid.

At my core, I am wise.

At my core, I am delighted.

At my core, I burn.

I burn with passion.

Passion for me.

I am Red.

I am Red because I burn.

And I burn down my prison.

I am free.