The Colour of Home

In this post we wrote about colour and emotion and poetry.

We have continued to use colour as a tool to spark ideas and evoke memories. Over the last few weeks we have reflected on which colours represent our experiences of the places we call home, both here in Birmingham, and the diverse countries we come from.

There have been stories of great love and joy; and of deep pain and suffering. There have, always, been glimmers of hope.

The following poem is a collective creative effort, based on the memories we chose to share of the homes we left behind.

The Colour of Home

Sometimes we didn’t know the value of things until they are lost:
In my family home, my breath was deep and soft.
Coffee under a neem tree shadow, a warm family feeling surrounds me.
There, where brown is common, we grow up with roots as steady as our pyramids.
Wind blows from the past, urging us to keep on the right path.
Love, bonded by blood, traditionally.

A rich culture, trapped inside the book of love by a lack of freedom
A bird in an empty sky does not know how to reach her dreams
Between wood and water I live: should be a heaven but the white capital was a prison.
No window light pierces a darkness bright.
A place where ill-luck displaces hope
Already frozen hands wouldn’t play on my sinking cello.

Behind the foggy peace, strangers open doors to unite like a green-growing family.
Humanity spreads throughout the country to shape people’s patterns.

Floating in the middle of the sea you hear it ... feel it ... dream it:
Dream for a settled future to come true.
Dreams filled with beautiful daisies and sunflowers, I wish I was a bee flying between them.
Living a stranger life with broken plans, but still free as a wolf
Passion makes me successful.