In spite of every beauty we’ve seen;
the uncontrolled laughter
muddled in the innocence of babies,
I will call them yellow sparked with stars,
or the slow dance of two who have drunk in wait
as hearts sprouted forests of fondness,
I will call this green with yellow leaves
and stripes of sunlight,
or the dome, arched by the patience and desire of the baker
as cake rises to meet the smile that glazes its first taste.
I will call this golden with the flavour of the earth
and slightly salted butter.
or the unfolded sigh from the heart that has come for rest,
having toured the undulating terrain of seas,
cuddles and thundering arguments shaped as knives.
I will call this grey with the absence of red blood
In spite of these all,
hearts still flick into the earth,
hope. Splashing on it tears and laughter,
Mined from cold crevices and warmed morning smiles.
That tomorrow, we will grow new sunshine’s
and singing flower.
The heart knows.
We have barely caught a glimpse
of what this life has