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Ripples smooth to calm.
The weeds and trees are sun-green.
Birds rest in the shade.

We are Colour ..... < Listen

When storytelling movies were black and white,
how did we know when to laugh, to cry
or cringe in terror when the villain crept
past the night-time window in our mind?

I say, we think in colour, paint the world
from an infinite palette; shades of emotion
mixed in a mind filled with exultant summer.

We know that black and white winter
covers the fire of dying, the reds, browns
and bright yellows of the withering sun.

We know the sleeping black sticks
remember every shade of green,
every bright bird flowering in the sky.

We know the clouds, those gray shades
hiding a blue expanse that will emerge
and merge with slate winter water.

We wander in the listless spring garden,
are infused with early lilacs
and the green promise of imagination.

We are colour and paint our lives
every vibrant hue of the world.
Our movies are not black and white.

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