The Colour of Curiosity

In blackest night my heart awoke,

With silver tongue it softly spoke,

A dream so intricate it wove,

A supple green, a sacred grove,

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An echo of a buried myth,

A long forgotten monolith,

A rainbow and a pot of gold,

A hero's path, like days of old,

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My fiery soul this song did stoke,

That spark of life, the surface broke,

To free my creativity,

I had to ask: who might I be?

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What in the mirror do I see?

What shades of grey reside in me?

What fades away with a blindfold?

And what, of me, has taken hold?

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All these I asked and many more,

These questions led me to your door,

The one enshrined inside my mind,

That without which one would be blind,

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Perception in itself, I say,

It's coloured night, or coloured day?

The water flows, the wind it blows,

Only with both are born rainbows,

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The silver moon, the golden sun,

They coincide, as round they're spun,

Like paint the picture starts to run,

And chaos leads to reunion,

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This science of the soul you see,

We once did know as alchemy,

What might the vibrant phoenix be -

What colour is man's destiny?

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The light of love doth light the hearth,

That lights the way along the path,

So write your words along the way,

All wrong turns lead you back one day,

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At least, that's what the wise men say,

For who within the lines could stay,

One must discover for oneself,

Else one is but an old bookshelf,

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So here's what I would like to know,

In which direction shall I grow?

What colour is the question why?

How are the earth, the sun, the sky?