Yellow Mercy
Yellow Mercy
(21 February 2016)
Where do our words come from
And colors and dreams as well?
I dreamed of a yellow mercy
Not a blue kindness or
red compassion or
gray forgiveness
But a humble windfall of
yellow mercy
Awake now, my eyes are filled
by fiery fields of wildflowers
Growing on a hill as spring approaches
A new beginning
to this old cycle
Gray skies occasionally clearing to blue
Clouds always coming and going
Without any consideration or help from us
Are the flowers blooming to comfort us
Their whole existence
A reminder we are loved
despite our flaws and struggles and suffering?
Are these the same daffodils
That grew on the graves of our ancestors
And ones that will grow on ours someday
A big beautiful field of yellow
to touch us and gently fade away