Rhea Jimmy

There’s something hauntingly beautiful about red.
It’ s a melancholy melody
that demands every last bit of attention.
A dramatic protagonist
that commands the stage,
putting on the performance of a lifetime.
And when it’ s done,
you’ll be left in awe.
In wonder, and maybe even in fear.

It’s strange that way,
that a simple color
can show you the world,
making you feel everything,
all at once.

Maybe that’ s why
when I see the deep, intense red
on the petals of a rose,
I see love.
Colored into every inch
of the royalty of this hue,
love lives limitless.

When I see the bold, brave red
of a lipstick shade so bright,
I see strength.
Rising like ashes
from the carcass of misogyny,
this strength survives sorrow.

When misfortune strikes
and fate draws blood
from the wounded bodies of us mortals,
I see death.
Lurking in the shadows
of a deep, gushing red,
this death screams doom.

When fortune calls again
and two souls become one,
in the melody of a scarlet lehenga,
embroidered with dreams of tomorrow,
I see hope.
Hope for life,
a hope for love.

When day closes
and the sun bids us adieu,
in its striking crimson hue,
I see warmth.
Warmth that engulfs me in an embrace,
keeping me snug
all through the night.

You see,
red is love,
It is light.
it’s all the good things,
so happy and bright.

But red is also ruin,
it’ s also rage.
All-consuming,
it’s the end of all day & age.

It’s this irresistible protagonist
and we’re all but its audience.
Quietly watching
as the world becomes its canvas.

Free it runs;
painting wild strokes here,
and timid splatters there.
It’s a sight to behold,
this hue;
For today it's something,
and tomorrow something new.

It’s everything,
in everyone.
It’s everywhere,
in every emotion,
and every motion.
It’s you, it’s me.
It’s so much more
than we will ever see.