19 February 2013 "Blue"

Deep, deep, blue. The color of the ocean, a vast mass full of nothing but blue. The color is one that would make sense only to someone who could see it with their own eyes. even then it is not fully understood. How deep, how dark, how cold this blue is as it stares.

There are so many different variations of the color blue, how is it possible that this one does not have a name? perhaps it is the color of tears;  soft and salty, warm and heavy. Dreadful as its warning, the blue tear floats like a leaf in a ravine.

Maybe it is the color of bluebells, the color of an ecstatic little flower, pushing through the gray grass, exhaling as it understands its job: it will be the one to call in spring. The season of hope, the end will not come. Today is the day when god’s diverse covenant will save once again.

The color of blueberries. Rich and round, thick and juicy, bursting with potential from the empty white sun that beats down its never-ending reminder of embrace. Fields and fields of blue little berries, none the same, but too many millions to taste each one’s magic.

Blue like sadness. Light as mercury, small and engulfing. A kiss, a smile, wistful, goodbye. Blue cannot be separated. Blue will stretch and blue will hurt, but an azure blue sky will never be defined by just its simple yellow star.

Blue like frostbite. Fingertips colder than shoulders, forgetfulness forgoes feuds. It’s time to sweep ourselves together, it’s time to lick our lips so cracked and chapped, time to smile through the pain, time to touch our cold hands to that strange redness, turned rose and then to dust.

Blue like sweets. Hope, horrible, horrible, hope. Crinkly candy wrappers and stained tongues, blue like giggling and blue like memories. As blue fills the car and kisses the leather, the blue aftertaste turns from treatment to toxin.

Blue without air. Crowds of people, each one a different shade. Hands clasped, prayers spoken in words forever blue. Tears have no color, no shade; desperation is faded as each’s color gets darker.

Blue smoke, Kaddish prayers. Blue forever forgotten as bliss, eyes less than gray.

It is the end, and it is blue.