Brown

Many seem to find brown

displeasing, plain, overdone.

But have they seen the soft loam 

which gives them life

and absorbs the heavenly rain?

Have they touched the bronzed copper,

always bent, but unbroken;

that which brings and cleans life-water?

Have they touched the softened leather,

that which comforts and supports the weary,

those exercising and traveling,

perhaps to never return?

Have they seen the wood, 

those trees that build homes

and settle barren land?

Have they seen the slow spreading of rust,

their own decaying childhood,

chanting "Quid sum, eritis!"

Have they no concept of Roman carnelian,

of spotted moss agate, of space traveled tektite,

of fire-flecked amber, of burning topaz, of two-colored tourmaline:

Of all those gems we value

for color, for clarity, for beauty?

Have they never felt the 

comfort of brunet hair,

of tanned skin, of loving eyes?

If they have not,

let them now

think it over.

I will taste the bittersweet chocolate,

touch the sleeping tabby cat,

and dream of an unwrapped present.