THE STORYBOARD CALLED LIFE

Colour Me

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Sit down and have one conversation. Then people are no longer just flesh and bones, but made up of their histories, their fears, their tears, their joys. Every detail, a stroke of colour. Blue as sorrow, pure gold joy painted on a canvas of limbs, lashes, lungs. Layered with age. Cracked and torn. Smooth and healed.

One honest cup of coffee and your eyes can be opened to the heart. The heart that beats for family. The heart that beats for mission. The heart that beats in time to the rhythm of world. Feet that shuffle to the dance of the puppeteer or cut free from the strings and dancing to its own beat.

Everyone has their demons. Some dance, revelling in their wickedness, some flee as far away, listening only to the angel whispering on their other shoulder.

If you give someone one moment of judgement-free time and ears hungry for truth, you may be healed of your blindness. Flashes of colour, dimension and shades will be revealed where there was once just a flat black and white portrait.

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Written by Candice

August 24, 2012 at 1:11 pm

Posted in Contemplate.

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