The past is tinted in permanent color, made either majestic or terrible based on the memory
Hues of yellow, pink and blue pastels sustain the memories of childhood alive and immortal in our minds’ eyes making it easy to imagine that the past is a special place in heaven, sanctioned by God to live on and never die
Grays and browns are watercolored streaks that stain the memories of our darkest days
The days we fight against perpetually
The black nights we are lost in, that wrap around us like a fog
The existential days that defy faith and mock belief until we are rescued again
Uplifted by some glad day of bright vivid clarity that arouses hope again of a future that is to be,
Yet still contains invisible colors that no prism can capture
There we hope against the night and against the threatening retreat into the dark.
There we find the end of all things,
The beginning of real immortality.