The Many Colors Of Xóchitl Rain

One can't tell by looking.
No matter how hard one tries, no one will ever see your colors.
They are yours. Yours to change and feed and cherish.
Yours to hate. Yours to love.
Yours to ignore. Yours to flaunt.
Some of us though, the lucky ones, we get to feel-
feel your colors.
We get to quietly, and sometimes loudly, observe
the mixing and budding of these colors.


Your purple.
It starts sweetly,
the gentle gathering of petals caught in wind.
The soft touch of new fingers to old.
A song that travels miles to find the right ears.
It is much like the flight of a swallow.
The sweeping memory of a childhood game, a fairytale, a night light.
Your purple- it is innocence.

Your blue.
An orb
completely full of whizzing spirals of turquoise determination,
navy obsession, and sky inspiration.
It pulsates, sparks.
Ideas, secrets, a half finished blueprint
spring, bouncing curve to curve.
Outside the orb, a nourishing silence.
Your blue- it is pure desire.

Your green.
An open field of sympathy and comfort.
The tight grasp of a hug- the welcoming of soft grass.
Its yearning- yearning for peace and no hurt.
All sadness decomposes and gives birth to new feelings.
The mortal life of a plant; you help these flowers be beautiful.
Your green- it understands.

Your yellow.
With a laugh your yellow escapes.
Enfolding your company,
embracing them with your happiness.
It radiates from your mouth,
over your tongue,
through the space between your teeth.
A beam.
Keeper of the sun.
Your yellow- it is warmth.

Your red.
It is not conventional fierce,
but more of a quiet intelligence.
It commands a sense of righteousness and brings meaning
to the commonly relied upon "future generation".
Abstractly, your red is a graceful bird with change on wing.
Quite literally, your red is growth.

And you will continue to grow.
Shedding layers of paint and
dust like pastels.
Some colors will always be with you.
Some you will leave behind.
But these colors, they are yours-
and only yours to see.