This house has walls that existed before me. I reckon each nook and cranny waited for each of us to arrive—one-by-one.
We lay and watched the light refracting through the prisms hanging in our window.
“Do you remember your first rainbow?”
I think to myself, and cannot recall. I do know there have been so many.
Big ones, small ones, ones that shimmer, others that come in pairs.
Today, there were so many of them scattered around us. They danced with our movement as we laughed and giggled.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many in one room.
How is there so much light in this house? Why I have I not noticed?
In my mind, I wonder, and the stillness seems to tell me: “There just is. Why wouldn’t there be?”
The stillness, trickling in from the light glinting as a car rolls by, asks: “What would a rainbow be in the dark?”
Neither of us answered.
At night, I know the answer.
The rainbows still exist, though we cannot see them. They are still just as beautiful because they are prisms hanging from our window, somehow out of place but still at home.
We had been talking about mirrors earlier.
They say, for protection, you should stand in a circle of them, but the mirrors’ backs should be to you. It is a way to say that the bad energy that others carry is a reflection of themselves, not born of you.
But we agreed that prisms, prisms are better.
Because you need the light. You need something to emit.
Mirrors are stationary. They don’t dance across the walls, they don’t necessarily spread anything but one’s own image. Should these people see themselves, what shall they do?
Let my enemies see my colors and rainbows, for they are also theirs. Even in the dark.
Yes, we need mirrors to clearly see ourselves. And it is inevitable, we see ourselves in someone else’s mirror, but we don’t “see” ourselves. We see dislike, distrust, or hate even. This world was not made for seeing ourselves, so much so we try our best to change so many things.
But should they see their colors, what shall they do?
If I saw my colors, what would I do?
Prisms, through prisms we see colors we simply cannot fathom. We see hope, connection, and a moment to pause.
Am I staring in at someone’s circle of mirrors?
Do I need something to emit? Or is my desperation to see droning out my own world of color?
Does my light need to shine through? Are these colors not still here in the dark?
Do you see yours too?