Yellow

Tunnels of yellow, raining gold. Sunlight penetrates the forest, a symphony of dancing leaves, the wind is nature’s song. Pay attention.

Golden yellow leaves shimmer in the muted morning light, playfully calling me forward. I walk along an empty path. Do I always need to know where I’m going?

Thousands of warped eyes urge me on, smiling softly. Knotted eyes that are unaffected by pandemics, media, my shifting thoughts and feelings, yet are changing all the same. I’m content and alone, surrounded by life, colors, the slightest noises if I just pay attention. 

Pay attention.

Yellow fills me up and at the same time empties me. Vibrant life drastically contrasts with bareness. Stillness and movement. Empty branches. Reaching out into nothingness, beckoning the cold, the shift into winter. Darkness is coming. But not now. I rake my hand through your shimmering, delicate petals. 

Yellow. 

Orange and red, gentle wind carrying them slowly away, a crescendo that’s almost the end, for now. Delight and sadness is expressed through my eyes, feelings unidentified and unfelt. I know it’s okay to bring them here. All the silly things I’ve created with my mind become yellow, color, absorbed by the crisp fall air and sun. 

Yellow currants ripple through the trees. Making waves against the pale blue sky.

Can I allow the colors to expand in my spirit, in my body, even though I know it will soon be gone? Can I close my eyes and lay in this field of yellow, in the crunchy brown and orange silhouettes of what used to be, and know that everything is okay? Right now. 

Yellow. 

Can I be quiet enough to be present? Can I enjoy the moment even though I know it will pass?

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