Red, a fire reaching upward,
fierce and defiant, pulsing
with anger’s urgent heat—
or the thrill of a heart-racing
in love’s unguarded rush.
Orange, the burst of laughter
spilled from parted lips, joy warm
and eager, or the bittersweet ache
of endings wrapped in beginnings,
sunlight dipping below the hills.
Yellow, a nervous, quivering spark,
the anxious hum of anticipation,
as bright as it is fleeting,
like a child’s first taste of freedom
or the flicker of hope on long nights.
Green, the envy coiled deep,
jealousy’s quiet, tangled roots—
and yet the balm of forgiveness,
a soft, steady breath of renewal
like grass cradling the morning dew.
Blue, cool as sorrow’s open sky,
the stretch of loss carried across
a quiet, endless ocean—
or the peace of solitude,
the serene embrace of belonging.
Indigo, a whisper of wonder,
the murmur of dreams unspoken,
a slow dive into memory’s depths
where mystery and doubt drift
like smoke within the water.
Violet, the silent resolve,
noble yet bruised, steadfast
in its gentle mourning, where pride
and wisdom walk together,
tempered by patience’s calm hand.
Each color, a single heartbeat
in the spectrum of being,
weaving the arc of us—
a bridge between storms,
a map in light, leading us home.
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