My Box of Crayons

You are my box of crayons.
The red to my passion;
The orange to my enthusiasm;
The yellow to my optimism;

The green to my peace;
The blue to my stability;
The purple to my creativity;
The black to my mystery;

The white to my innocence;
The brown to my strength.
Every shade and every tint
That I am is what you paint.

With you, I am smaragdine,
And viridian and aquamarine,
And argent and apricot,
And indigo and gamboge,

And ash and amethyst,
And skobellof and mulberry.
You are every color I’ll ever be,
And only with you, I’ll play Holi.

A Saree Tale

What if a saree could speak?
What tales would it narrate?
Be it cotton, satin, or pure silk,
Is it more than just a drape?

Yesterday was just another day
When I pulled out a pink saree.
It was a beautiful, floral georgette,
And as I wore it, it spoke to me.

The first yard promised secrecy,
As it always remains hidden.
Like some aspects of me
Stay undisclosed and unseen.

The second yard promised beauty
With its colors and pretty motifs.
Like all of my unique qualities
Come together to make me me.

The third yard promised change
As I folded it into wavy pleats.
Like my moods, never the same,
Are united in my personality.

The fourth yard promised grace
As it slowly curved behind.
Like the manner in which I face
All that’s doled to me by life.

The fifth yard promised strength
As I drew it in front and higher.
Like my determination and grit
Through tough times, get me over.

The sixth yard promised freedom
As it draped over my shoulder.
Like my thoughts and expressions
Give me higher powers.

When I finally looked at myself,
I was overcome with happiness.
Yes, my saree was more than a dress.
My saree turned me into a Goddess!