Existing Between the Tones

Tonal and blatant, a victim to the blind.

Where is the color…so wise, so deep?

Where is the color…so kind?

I search for vibrant signs.

Bland and distant,

a pillaged village is what I find.

A river will rise and bergs of ice will sink.

Leaving in it’s wake…visions less distinct.

A sky so blue discolored by sight.

that Which is not Blurred

‘What of the permanent anchor?  To the weight, we all must bear!  The cloaked mystery of our destiny?  No matter how rural a thought!  Sameness, be the only play on words…

Defining moments!  Infinity, obscured.  When color becomes that which is not blurred!’