There is a gale

It blows and bends the reeds of grass

It speaks to my inner song

It howls and sings in the grey

I feel colorless

As though brown and white and silver

Paint the day beyond

The walls of my room

Silent and waiting

We are colors too

They say

Born of your sorrow

Accenting your grief

We are soothing

To your solemn way

I used to paint colors bright

I longed for vibrant

I searched for scorching light

To envelope this life

To reveal magnitude of self

And now I hear the brown

I can taste the dirty white silver grey

I feel this subtle hue

Of spirit

Though the colors have sublimated

From rainbows of glory

To the grey shades of solitude

I feel held and seen

The earth holds me

And

My voice is not voiceless

Rather

It is strong, capable

Deep, deep crimson brown

Is the color of my blood

And as it fades to maturity

It flows in and out

Teaching and learning

The lessons of age

Alone, but not alone

Tired but fueled with

Love and acceptance

Of all that is, was and will be

I tether on

I stay connected

I remain in the stillness

And when I yell and cry

This grey stillness

Holds me down

We are together, still

An age has passed

Through our fingers

We unite and touch them

Together in the night

A simple touch

Barely a flicker

Yet durable and comforting

As comforting as the grey hues

The browns and the silver

Of the gale that blows

Around the skeletons

The bones of memory

In my body and yours

A story waiting to usurp

A rested soul