Yesterday I savored a video of my two-year old grandson coloring eggs, bright blue, red, yellow, orange, green.  His fingers were colored like tiny rainbows, blended, blurred.

Yesterday I saw a rainbow, not really a bow, more a prismed blend, which perhaps reflects all that’s happening these days.  There’s no clear arch.

Where does one come to rest?

I rest my sit bones on the chair, move back and forth, side to side, feel my jaw respond, my eyes.

I wiggle my nose like a bunny and nibble a carrot.  It’s Spring and eggs and color are everywhere.

Even among the tragedies unfolding on the earth, may we pause for a moment, and sit in colored curves.

4 thoughts on “Coloring Eggs

  1. I also saw the pale blur of the rainbow.
    One side was a dark cloud, the other side sun trying to peek through. The middle was the connective tissue of the pale rainbow.
    Definitely a metaphor of what our world is experiencing…


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