Though I May Be Colourblind

Though I may be colourblind,

still I see in you,

the ruddy tint upon your lips,

your fingertips turn blue.

Today will end and so it slips

into the grey behind.

And though I may be short of sight

I will not be fooled.

The colour in your cheeks has drained,

purposefully cooled;

the windows in your church were stained,

but now are black and white.

It’s true my eyes are duller now

but I can face the truth.

The grass is always greener, dear —

the burden is the proof.

Spin me yarn of dirge and fear,

prepare me for the plough,

though I may be colourblind

now I know the dark,

you cannot pull me from the light

and coax me to your ark,

for I will drown with pure delight

in the colours of my mind.