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 
a beautiful, poignant poem with the hope of blossoms, Margaret. A comforting way to remember your father.
Margaret, yellow is a color that brightly shines through the dark. It is a perfect color to associate with your father who is still there watching over you.
Thanks. Sometimes it’s hard to feel the connection.
Beautiful, Margaret. That first peek of yellow each spring is a joyous event for me. Thank you for sharing your heartwarming connection.
What a gorgeous poem. And I do love Fancy posed so stately beside the yellow bird and succulent!
How perfectly beautiful. I love the story and the poem and that your Dad is in it all. Fancy is too cute!
It’s not lost on me, Margaret, that yellow figured into both of our reflections this month – as we walk the path of grief and loss. I’m a believer that yellow is a sign of joy – and in many ways of God’s light. If yellow found you, like my sister’s yellow pillows, I hope the pot and the daffodils will bring you comfort.
A gorgeous, gorgeous reflection on the power of yellow in in many symbolic forms, not the least of which is that hidden bulb waiting to bloom, someday. And the warbler-! The appearance of birds, winged messengers, always a reminder that we shall transcend the earthly for the divine. Your poem so speaks to the experience of life, having loved, the passage of time and remembering, gratitude, and, above all, great hope. Just magnificent.
I always feel the urge to copy and paste your comments into a journal for those days (and there are many) when I do not feel like a writer. Thanks for your cheers.
Lovely!