This one is for the spoken word.
In the in-between, head-down, pass-by world everything looks a little grey.
Colour teases the edge of our eyes but blurs out, as we move too fast to taste its richer accents.
Grey is not a monotone.
There are shades of grey and flavours of grey and sprays and days and ways of grey.
We sit at the center of a maze of grey.
And looking out-
Can we see the prize we sought in the first place?
Are we hugging walls, peering down dead ends to bends that take us right back to nowhere?
So let’s slow.
All those twists, those turns, those trends-
They’re not what is holding us back from earning our just reward.
In those walls around us, the path beneath-
There, in the cracks-
When we open our eyes-
We bring the colour with us.
Let it spread.
If you want some written style to go with the spoken style, I have also written a fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor. It is available here.