The season’s new, nature’s demise unfolds, the death of the trees, the life of the snow. The cold captures the color; a colorless world it creates. Winds, agents of our newfound season, carry optimistic hopes of a colorblind world, the death of racism in its fate. The spectrum found within one’s sight cast away with ignorance and spite. Transparent boundaries around the soul, nothing seen but felt by all. Images of creativity and unmatched diversity like the remnants of our first snowfall. As the cold continues so does the fight against prejudice and hate, things learned in society, nothing innate. So as nature dies in hopes of its rebirth, hope for the long lost innocence found in our youth. Nothing of color, nothing of race, just innocence and beauty, heavenly grace. For all that lives, all that survives, is who we are, the color inside.
AS all of us are rushed away in the current of our never-ceasing lives, we need to take time to think and to understand what is unique in ourselves, so that we may realize and appreciate the diversity around us.
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