Prism Glass

People can have a wonderful effect on us sometimes.

 

 

Days go by as drops of rain.
Hours pass, too many to count.
When will we end our isolation?
The worth of living is wrapped only
in thoughts of you.
The rain drops act as a prism glass,
colors move about like exotic dancers,
greens, blues, and shades of red.
You are my prism!
breaking the world into wonderful hues.
Each day without you is reduced to
black and white.
When will I see color again?

Author's Note

Free verse

Reviews

[Constance]

Very nice. I remember many times as a child looking at a prism my grandmother had on an afternoon. I remember how much all that color effected me. Is love reminiscent of those colors? Oh, yes. This is a good metaphor. The one we love can indeed shine with beautiful color, making everything seem new... and lack of them can make you feel as though the sun has stopped shining through that pretty glass.

[Siddartha Beth Pierce]

Such a delight to read such longing. I can truly empathize with the emotions you so adeptly express here. Beautiful imagery.
Light,
Siddartha

[Fran Marie]

Each day without you is reduced to
black and white.
When will I see color again?

A great piece of writing here~ and the ending stanza ties it up all rather nicely~ Exquisitely penned my friend~Fran Marie

[huma]

very nice exploration of the multiplicity of being beyond duality