Vibrance in a holed boat

     Oranges. Blues. Yellows. Reds. Greens. Pinks.
Silvery grays. Rich blacks.

      Soft and strong they are united. Stationary and
alone some are weakened. Stripped of their meanings.
The strength of their vibrance.

      I can say I have felt the weakened state. Seen
how damaging it is to rip and still somehow I manage
to uphold. Jehovah is that strength.

     Funny how vibrance can be torn or can fade but
just a retouch or a new coat all are woven once more.
The brillance steps forward once again.

     Ah how a bridge becomes clearer. Still am I at
that point? That is not for me to decide. Only two
can. So at this point I am standing on the bank
thinking a holed row boat is my choice of connections.

    La. I laugh at trying to see myself row a boat.
Seriously? Yeah I hope the roar of laughter is rolling
off the chest of all.

    A sigh is released as the hours pull on. Just a few
more and I will be solo again. Loving it big time.

   So if I am not standing on the banks and I am still
on the bridge I don't want to wonder anymore.
Up to you.