Blue

I like blue - particularly when it is the sky. Today I'm driving in it. Who knew that the sky could get so big? Its been diminished lately due to cloud cover and thunderstorms. They have their own majesty, but the sky is shrunken to smaller proportions when they are present. Today's a day with high cirrus clouds which seem to enhance the sky's enormity rather than diminish it. The mountains seem to drift like ships on the horizon, each range behind its parent just a little more veiled, but there is no ending to them, only a distant vanishing point. And as I drive, that recedes into infinity.
I also like blue when it is on my brush, hitting the paper to transform the plane into a space of its own, with echoes of that infinity. I like blue when it is wrapped around my legs in my jeans. I like blue when it is wrapped around my beloved as a dress. I love blue ice, with a flavor supposedly blueberry, but really just blue itself, not like any other flavor.
I like blue when it is in your eyes, or in your eyes reflected in a mirror. I like blue when it appears from the point of a pen or when it rushes by in a river, or is captured in the stillness of a lake. I like blue when stars fall through it. But most of all, I love blue when it is true.