strange week. . . . . but:
looking up at my garden under grey sky:
how would I paint it?
thinking of this, I looked again and saw the colours.
painting would proclaim them;
otherwise unseen - even by me.
in my music too I proclaimed colour.
'seeing on behalf of'
sharing what I saw.
I say 'see' and not 'hear' because when I hear colour I see it
and it is in the seeing that joy resides:
living seed of hope.

reading this again I am puzzled.
I don't always see the colour when I hear the music.
when I do not see: the music falls on deaf ears.
when I play: I search to see rather than to hear.
when I cannot see: I cannot write down.
hence the blockage.
I cannot see because I cannot believe
cycling then?