Noah’s Children Pass the Hours With Crayons

We all love our cat

since we painted her blue,

colored to match our perception of heaven,

created in the fancy of a passing moment

waiting for the skies to clear.

But not all share our joy,

embracing change.

I hear our neighbor’s old hound growling,

menacing the cat.

Color blind from birth, he responds

to his inner storm unaware

of the rainbow’s beauty, stopping

to lap rainwater puddles

that glisten

in the shadows

of the ark.