teacups and cinnamon

The Truth About the Blues

The Blues are sad, they say--but I deny
Their lie! The azure sky; the saphir sea;
The beryl, rippling brook--do they imply
A state of darkly stained melancholy?
Just gaze into a lake's clean cobalt glass
Of boundless shades in joyous, unpained hues
No other Earthly hue can Blue surpass,
It sky and sea and soil--and us--will fuse
Into one integrated, whole concord.
Where lesser-tinctured hues would melt and fade
Into desiccated, grayed-out horde,
All beaming Blues remain--no tint betrayed!
But then...I see the hue of my own eye...
No more can I the Blues' true state deny.

-Klaus Nordby