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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Environment · #2251721
... in the eye of the beholder; and the camera. Shadows & Light Poetry, June 14 2120
Once upon some time ago, I read words spoken by Alice Walker, in 'The Colour Purple'
"I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it."

This mind drifted away — imagination mode full-on, whilst feet remained firmly planted in my small corner of our world… (I'm rather good at this)

Ahh but Alice, my dear. I did NOT walk by the colour purple as it softened all in my field one summer's night.
On the heels of the burning sun, it rosily waltzed a silent glissade across our great azure sky.
Distant power poles projected an ethereal shimmer… ugly, dominant presence of stark daylight hours lost.
I suppose I took a step, maybe two, in opposite directions, optimising angles.
But NO more! Too wary, now, of breaking this spirit-hugging spell.
Blue-purples and pink-purples featured and blended, rhythmically, forming new, breathtaking shades.
Beauty so mesmerising, I near forgot the click to record;
Then, having begun, like Molly with her mop, near impossible to stop.

Fancifully, I thought God smiled, adding more pastel light to that sky, emphasising the inky darkness of trees, framing the ethereal panorama.

What egotism to imagine capturing what only God can so perfectly present. No ordinary camera can capture birdsongs high above, exchanging tales of their travels, before chattering slows… and quietens.
Settle for the night wee travellers. Time for sleep to take over.
Nearby, smooth and low cattle voices drift along the soft breeze. Answering bellows ring out from their offspring.
They know their mothers, as well as the mamas know their babes .
Faraway, the baa-ing sheep announce their gathering of lambkins close for the night.
The hen-house routine of bedtime music, as the approaching evening draws in, broadcasts a mostly contented 'BOK-BOK-BOKs' , with only an occasional squawk; one old 'girl' whinges to a latecomer— "REALLY?!? Yet another shuffle along the perch to make MORE room? Surely not??"

Such harmony revealed, moments before the sun sank from view. Why did I ever stop clicking?
Maybe because, thankfully, humans have the best, most enviable skill to record ALL simultaneously —
in our depths,
in our hearts and souls,
and best of all, images burned into our memories forever.
Small wonder God is pissed off if we should just take ALL for granted, and pass by, ignorant and unappreciative.

Today, in the middle of winter, I fervently pray -
“C'mon summer, give me another chance.
God?
Please?”
And in dreams I promise you, Alice, I'll NEVER walk by the colour purple without adoring it.
Never have, never will.



(30 lines)
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