For this month’s Spiritual Journey posts, Bob asked us to use the theme “Colors of My Life” Ever since my father died in April, the color that reminds me to think of him is yellow.
One day in early June as I recovered ever so slowly from Covid, a male prothonotary warbler came to my window. He flapped his wings, showing off or defending his territory from his reflected invader I’m not sure which, but I internalized it as a visit from my father’s spirit.
Recently I was in an antique shop with my daughters, wandering as they shopped and I found a little ceramic yellow bird with a sweet succulent in it. Now it sits on my kitchen table. Do we need these little things? Probably not, but in some small way, they give comfort and hope.
Yellow Through My Days
In a terra-cotta pot, daffodil
bulbs sprout, ones my dear friend
nurtured and planted for someday.Someday, a yellow blossom
will pop open like a sparkle
of light welcoming spring.Someday, a yellow prothonotary warbler
will find a house perched
at water’s edge, ready for nesting.Someday, the yellowed pages
of a scrapbook will break
my heart.But today, yellow is hiding
inside a bulb, on a southern shore
and in a cardboard boxfor someday…
Margaret Simon, draft
Reflections on the Teche 