Tuesday, March 17, 2009

It's not that easy being green

Timothy the Frog (née Kermit) got it right.

It's not that easy being green
Having to spend each day the color of the leaves

I’m often amused how a girl big as life, boisterous and red and joyful and outspoken and outloud is invisible, even in a crowd, even when shouting from her fingertips. Maybe amused isn't quite the right word.

When I think it could be nicer being red, or yellow or gold
Or something much more colorful like that

Not a shrinking violet, more a gerbera daisy with a hearty stem and thick, vibrantly colored petals. But most prefer roses.

It's not easy being green
It seems you blend in with so many other ordinary things
And people tend to pass you over 'cause you're not standing out
Like flashy sparkles in the water
Or stars in the sky

I’ve seen eagles soar over the small park near my house. Not as often as I did before a massive apartment complex sprung up on the land, more when it was open field and trees and grass. I’m still looking up though. Once years ago, in that same space, a baby bear was found up a tree, having wandered miles from home. Why didn’t the sloth, at very least the Mama Bear, notice he’d gone off alone? Guess bears are solitary animals, really (Wikipeida says so).

But green's the color of Spring
And green can be cool and friendly-like
And green can be big like an ocean, or important
Like a mountain, or tall like a tree

Maybe this afternoon I’ll treat myself to a green tea mani-pedi at the new salon nearby, my St. Pat’s celebration. It’s spendy, but 20% off on Tuesdays.

When green is all there is to be
It could make you wonder why, but why wonder why wonder
I am green and it'll do fine, it's beautiful

And I think it's what I want to be

Wasn't it funny how Big Bird was the only one to see the Snuffleupagus and the others teased him because they didn't believe there was such an animal? Maybe funny isn't quite the right word.


dan said...

beautifully put. of course, none of the colors are inherently easy, and any of them is a perfect camoflage only under perfect circumstances and otherwise is a terrible burden of self-exposure, like a tree-frog on a beige officecube wall. And even those of us blessed with the perfect look find ourselves snatched from our burrows by that eagle that circles near my house too (okay it's a hawk but w-evah).

I have one friend who has it all. She's slim, athletic, brilliant, gregarious, enviable in too many ways... and she is deeply sad. No one takes her seriously, no one respects her space, she is never left alone when she needs to be and those who approach do so for all the wrong reasons. We talk about seeking invisibility, or taking advantage of the blessings with nature has endowed us. In the end, she's still depressed but it's easier having shared it.

I hope your manped-i-i soothes your brow as well as your carpals and tarsals, and that you can believe that the words you stitch together for us are a shimmering and unique identity which will always distinguish you in the intimate environs which those of us lucky enough to know of them haunt.

I like geraniums. They smell like vitamins and look like someone crumpled them up but they always make me feel like something good is coming, not like it's just passed me by.

Jodie Kash said...

@Dan - Lovely comment. It's awful sometimes how we can't see ourselves as others do.

I like the geranium analogy. Crumpled things are beautiful ;)

Search me