The Blue of Depression
Let it be Lapis Lazuli
If my depression must be blue
Let it be lapis lazuli
Buried deep in the sands of Afghanistan
Veined with blood and wet with tears
Passed hand to hand and pressed -- into the eye of a clay Sumerian
If my depression must be blue
Let it be lapis lazuli
Braided into the beard of a Pharaoh
A broken and repaired funeral mask
Worn by time and the worry of a mummy’s hand
If my depression must be blue
Let it be lapis lazuli
Ground down in monastery at Dahlheim
Inhaled and licked to the sharpest of points
Mixed with the saliva of prayer into a hardened dental plaque
If my depression must be blue
Let it be lapis lazuli
Crushed and powdered in the studio of Tiziano Vecelli
Brushed into the deepest crevasses of Mary’s dress
Then displayed for all to see in some very public museum
If my depression must be blue
Let it be lapis lazuli
Chipped and aggregated into the Phoenix Sky Harbour
Swirled and cemented into a DNA strand
Not fixed into my genetic make-up, destined and chronic
Debra Roháč
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