Red is Ice and Blue is Fire,
And then sings the heavenly choir,
"Red is fire, and Blue is ice!
We will not repeat it thrice!"

Thrice? That's strange so I ponder,
"You mean to repeat again I wonder?"
The choir stares with burning eyes,
And their pitch seems to rise,

"Argue with us if you may,
But your representation is wrong we say!
Look at fire, hot and red,
And ice a sleek and frosty blue!
How do you not see this in the two?"

So what of actual features?
I seek deeper meanings in the colors.

"The grass is orange, and the sun is green!"
The choir knows not what I mean.

"How can you, foolish person,
Not see that the trees and grass are green?
Orange is not their color!"

"So you're saying the grass is green?"

"Yes, have you not seen,
The light of day under the orange sun?
The sun is orange that it was!"

"That it is, you mean to say?"

The choirs' voice seemed to gentle.
Their glowing faces like a mantle,
Of BLUE FLAME!

"Your fire is blue! How crude are you?
You see the sun as green as it is not,
WHY DO YOU SAY THAT?!"

"I say that of which is not,
Perhaps my brain is in a jumble,
But it pleases me to see you mumble
To yourselves in your frustration,
You have no imagination!
I seek deeper meanings in the colors!
Fire is blue for blue is memorable,
Fire is memorable too!
Red is ice for red can cool to pink,
Soft and plush,
As does ice when it melts to slush.
Do you see now?!"

The choir which was sent by god
Could not see why I chose these differences.
They act on what was definite,
Instead of seeking something different.
Functioning only as one.

"And green I say, is the sun!
God created the world we share,
The universe we hold so dear,
But he did not create all similar,
Nor did the creator intend for us,
To see the world in definite order.
The creator said for us to be
And believe in what we wish to see.
To share ideas with one another,
To treat equal surrounding others!"

The choir sang in an uproarious voice,
All different entities living, singing as one.
That was their choice.
The pleasant angelic faces turned to rage,
And more violently the chorus sang.

"NO!
GOD HAD NOT MADE THE SUN GREEN!
YOU ARE WRONG AND WE ARE RIGHT!
YOU'RE NOT SEEING WITH YOUR SIGHT!
REALITY IS AND ALWAYS WAS!
AND NO ONE CAN CHANGE THAT BECAUSE...
It is so."

The choir chortled with disturbing pleasure.
They did not approve of my obscure measures.
They taunted and teased, and it seemed
To please them so.
They truly thought me an unrighteous fool.
They did not realize they were merely tools,
Unable to do without the counterpart.
This broke my heart.

"Sad, I feel for you, oh CHOIR!
WHO SAY THOU ART SENT BY GOD
TO PROVE GOD'S REALITY!
God's reality is all of ours,
But there are two realities.
Two truths, that only one
Opposite of God's,
An individual can use.
I see the world in a physical form,
But all that's there can be changed!
And yet you find it strange,
That a new creation can occur
With the use of something old.
The name, the color, the shape, the feel,
Does not determine what an object truly is.
In every hand an object is different,
For the fact it's in another's mind.
You all will never be able to find
God's true reality,
For I seek different meanings in these colors!

The choirs' BLUE FLAME grew large and angry,
Their purpose defeated,
Or perhaps misunderstood.

First underneath the choir I stood.
But I rose above them to the lofty heights,
Away from their desparate, hungry hands;
For they could not understand
The deeper meanings in the colors.

They sank into the blue fire,
Which the choir
Saw as red.

Ella Brown