Purple

I came across the below poem on Edie Kugler's site, What We Create (thank you for introducing this beautiful poem to me Edie).  It's one of those poems that immediately gave me chills and I knew I had to share.  It reminds me so much of a poem very close to my heart, How to Paint a Donkey, a poem I've introduced here on a few occasions and that inspired my "Just Right" donkey painting.

Get really quiet for a minute and ask yourself:  What would I do/create today if I listened to that deepest place in my heart?  If there was no such thing as a mistake?  If I couldn't fail?  If I allowed myself to be fully free?  If I trusted that whatever I did/created would be just right?

"Just Right"

Purple 

by Alexis Rotella 

In first grade Mrs. Lohr  

said my purple tipi  

wasn't realistic enough, 

that purple was no color 

for a tent, 

that purple was a color 

for people who died,  

that my drawing wasn't 

good enough  

to hang with the others. 

I walked back to my seat  

counting the swish swish swishes 

of my baggy corduroy trousers. 

With a black crayon  

nightfall came  

to my purple tent  

in the middle of an afternoon. 

In second grade Mr. Barta  

said draw anything;  

he didn't care what.  

I left my paper blank  

and when he came around  

to my desk  

my heart beat like a tom tom.  

He touched my head  

with his big hand  

and in a soft voice said  

the snowfall  

how clean  

and white  

and beautiful