What if a color was lost each time a species became extinct and the myriad palettes that fill our eyes in gardens and deserts on mountains beneath water jungles no longer held that one unique vibration of chromatic energy as though the hued gradient of beauty surrounding us was a reflection a tally of diversity nourishing the potential for immeasurable evolutions within the countless revolutions dizzying us filling us with awe but that that forever loss was a shadow that fell across our eyes we couldn't even remember the words for what we no longer saw and as more species were lost and all became monochromatic would we profess that even just with one color hued and shaded

so many pictures

we could paint

impressions surreal pointed

a blue period that was forever

or would dreams be the only richly seen space and so we would wish to sleep in museums of our imagination recalling the beauty to which our current blindness was but evidence of our betrayal rationalized by ignorance and powerlessness or would instead we close our eyes awake and with touch and sound grope our way forward this time hoping that notes of melody of bird song did not become silent that sweet tastes of fruits and berries did not become brackish that velvet and silk did not become thorn and that that hope became more than desire and that groping became more like a dance choreographed by wisdom and grace to bring back symphonies and gardens to

save so many species of feathered hopes

the gift of time

would fill each present

with color and sound

with promise