Do your Stories choose you?

Have you ever wondered why each story chooses you

Why they germinate in your mind so very....... specifically

Your tiny literary, beautiful offspring composed of prose

Beseeching you to breathe them, write and gently hone them

Finally blooming them into garlands of fragrant bouquets

I dreamt of all the wonderful stories that I have composed

The happy ones, sad ones, brave, bold ones, the hopeful ones

Don't forget the very doubtful ones hiding in the shadows

In this dream there exists a great and patterned intriguing wall

For every story there appears a rose, gently, yet firmly grasped

Entwined betwixt my fingers, it pulls me to a chosen spot

Then upon little wings each delicate creative flowery petal

Snuggles peacefully into its place of sweet repose, and sleeps

I have long realized that every story chooses its own color

Each story possesses its own amazing hue and tone

I float so gently up and up, all the way to the top of this wall

To observe this most curious of phenomenon

The happy stories chose the color purple one day

Yet a very strange shade of green upon a different day

The sad stories chose to ever remain in varied shades of blue

Doubtful stories they shimmer from one color to the next

In their quest to hide, they then yet become the most noticeable

Of the entire distinguished lot, as their colors beguile and attract

The brave stories came in bold greens and reds, I fear

These by far tend to get me in lots of terrible trouble

Rejection and sanctions and rewrites are their lot, oh dear

The bold stories....well! We only speak of those in whispers

The hopeful stories choose many pastel shaded tones

One, White + Blue = Light Blue.

Two, White + Greenish Blue = Aquamarine.

Third, White + Brown = Ocher.

Fourth, White + Orange = Salmon.

Fifth, White + Black = Gray.

These are by far my favorite of the whole amazing lot

Listen carefully, they all whisper all at once in my ear

Just like naughty, nice and incongruous carousing kids

One at a time, children; I admonish them as they tumble

Here there and everywhere, each needing to be heard first

Take heed, they say, to the color, shade and hue of your inner mind

For when you listen down deep, the perfect story shall be written

Write not a blue story on a red day, or a red story on a grey day

Tune your colors to the rhythm of your inner soul and heartbeat

Write when the universe speaks her truth into your air and sky

Follow your heart, your thoughts, your mood, tone and color

The perfect story then soon shall follow!

N.A.12/23/22