I was yellow, all shades.
The one that made the brightest day.
The one that was calm and peaceful.
The one that bloomed like a sunflower, embracing life’s endless possibilities.
Then the blues came and mixed it all up,
Bringing chaos, pain and a little grey.
I couldn’t quite comprehend.
Later I found, that it was meant to be experiences that would teach.
And I? I saw nothing of the sort.
I wanted my yellow. It was all that I knew.
I did not know that when the blues come, they blend with my yellow, creating a vibrant green.
The green of life’s lessons, the growth and strength it brings.
The flags of red came and I welcomed it.
You see, the heart chooses to look and interpret in its own way.
And although the alarm always rings, once its beat begins there’s no going back.
So, as would follow, bruises, cuts and then the eventual stab.
I wanted my yellow. It gave me comfort.
I did not know that when the reds come, it gives my yellow the warmest orange.
The orange of life’s ever-changing palette, where comfort meets transformation of girl to woman.
My yellow, crushed. Crushed into colours I need not want.
Into places, I rather not go.
Giving newness I didn’t much welcome.
In the end,
I have learned that my yellow, though broken still colored.
This time, into so much more.
Into greens, into oranges.
And somewhere deep down into the most beautiful yellow I never even knew was.
-Broken crayons still colour
David Weaver
Side note: I haven’t actually read the book. I hear it’s based on a true story and reviews say it is interesting too. Someone quoted him in a devotional and it gave this meaning to me. I most likely will give the book a shot in the near future. Until next time.
Xoxo.
