Summary

The text reflects on the emotional complexities of perceiving profound beauty and sorrow in the world, questioning whether such a gift of deep sight is a blessing or a curse.

Abstract

"Colorful Sight: A Tormented Gift" is a contemplative piece that delves into the author's intense emotional responses to everyday sights. The author describes a rare ability to see beyond the surface, finding unique beauty in the mundane, yet also experiencing sorrow in the overlooked and discarded. This gift brings a mix of serenity from the stillness of night and the softness of clouds, as well as anxiety from the tumult of the seas. It is a dual-edged sword that offers comfort and freedom, but also fear and burden. The author ponders whether their heightened perception is a treasure or a torment, and whether they have inadvertently passed this complex legacy onto their children.

Opinions

The author feels a profound connection to the world, finding beauty in the simplicity of nature and everyday objects.
There is a sense of empathy for the neglected, such as the runt of the litter or an old, colorful object left behind.
The author experiences a wide range of emotions tied to various colors and elements in nature, suggesting that their perception is deeply intertwined with their emotional state.
Despite the beauty perceived, there is a underlying theme of confliction and torment, as the author questions the impact of their deep sight on their own life and potentially on the lives of their children.
The text conveys a hope that this unique perception might be seen as a valuable asset, likened to a pot of treasure at the end of a rainbow.
The author concludes with a note of empowerment, suggesting that they and their children, though possibly seen as runts or afterthoughts, are in fact chosen and worthy of being displayed and appreciated.

Colorful Sight: A Tormented Gift

I feel deep beauty, in all that I see,

A gift that is rare, unique within me.

Sorrow, in the old colorful object – that is left behind on the shelf,

Or sadness, in the runt of the litter – that is cast away, alone with oneself.

Clouds bring peace, slow-moving and soft white,

Comfort is found through the stillness and black of the night.

Freedom is felt, at the highest tip of green trees,

Anxiety, sea sickness, from the turbulent blue seas.

Humbled by the brown dirt, in which their little feet run,

Hope for the future in the warm, yellow rays of the sun.

Blessings are seen – in their pink rosy cheeks,

Then, frozen in fear – by the grey lightening storm streaks~

Strength comes from the red in my wine, at the end of each night ~

Am I destined to be tormented, by my colorful sight?

Did I pass my truth on – to my babies x3~

Will they be burdened by the weight of the world – at which they feel and see?

Uncertainty and confliction, burns through the moon’s eerie orange glow~

Am I, are we, the pot of treasure you find – further down the rainbow you go?

My girls and I runts, but also first chosen each day~

We are the colorful object (s) thought to be left behind, but were actually selected to be on display!