Soul to Sight

Who am I?

A definition not found in words,

though,

I search putting ink to paper.

Perhaps an ever-shifting, effervescent shade of

blue.

Colour of skies and choppy seas,

calm and storm.

But no,

that’s not quite right.

I rarely feel like blue.

Most change from day to day.

In a colour, in a word.

A painting made of growth, and struggle

in place of brushstrokes.

Who am I?

The question rings today,

and everyday

with a step into the next awakening

learning my true colours,

shift.

While it seems this synesthesia

puts soul to sight,

I cannot define.

Though I strive.

Ever searching.