The mind has this innate need to make something out of something we can't see

Beauty in the rolls of blue and red

Sounds filling our head

Only go with the never ending flow of color which keeps us from death

Without it, there is no color and no light

Nothing bright to light the way in the cloud that is life

Because without color

How would we leave ourselves behind

Only our infinitely unique image can be captured by that shade we wish to see

The painting hanging on the wall hold all of who we are and who we are to be

Chalk rubbed across a scratched board

Leaving small dark spaces no one but us can see

And ice spilled on the floor of a kitchen

Never sinks and never leaves

It's only art because we see

The shapes that don't exist

A shapeshifter trapped in the frills from an almost used up crayon

A muddy yellow after be touched to so many other beautiful things

One frill is blue

Another is pink

All it takes is the ability to think

Create and be