the lost man chronicles
the kaleidoscope of humanity .26
while in the garden this Saturday afternoon, with the silhouette of squirrels lithely crossing a shadow's line at my feet,
I noticed an unusual sprouting of spores from afar, tiny teams of buttercups huddled at the tip of stems,
half of which seemed red on top, and blue to the bottom-end.
The illusion was broken upon close examination, it seemed the sun had played a trick on me
and through grades of light had shone a duo of punctuality.
With loaded pistils of violet, this duel of differences was all the more pleasing, and none to offend,
For I was shown that here at high noon that I could see in this hyacinth both the sun and the moon,
In but one receptacle of light.
People are that way.
For they are many shades of might and seeming shades of color, it is really only others that confine them to one hue.
Those often found yellow, given the chance,
May turn bold and blue, under other circumstance.
Others who pose by day a pale white,
May passion paint crimson-red by night.
And the green who seem to know nothing,
May play the part of the passive, to thwart their earl-grey.
This be the human kaleidoscope.
humility .25 27. a minim of existence