I’m searching into my heart this morning. The color is gray.
It’s a state of dissonance and a bitter taste of innocent lives ending too soon. Our country is stuck there.
I stretch past rain streaked windows and walk into edges of sleepless dawn. Gray and I are friends; we visit this hallowed refuge often.
Gray is the outer cloak of fog and the inner tones of dappled steel-blues. I follow the notes.
Gray is ethereal as it is solid. It sees positive and negative shadows and doesn’t leave me alone.
And while I remain here, I know meaning will come.
For I seek dove gray. It pairs well with quiet and blends with the heart of love.