A glaze settled over her vision, tinting everything a murky brown.
This winter no longer seemed gray but the sepia tones of daguerrotype
Images: old-fashioned, detached, sullen in the moment captured.

So many big fears had abated after the accident. 
Still, these small shifts of non-reality churned the dread
That life would be forever altered, halted, and haunted
By sensations beyond her control,
Her own body turned against her.

Such a small decision made resolute in depth --
A focus on color: just one.
Her favorite color yellow would be her guide, symbol,
theme, subconscious influence, mantra, and promise of
return
But where and how?
A focus on what she new would hint of the brightness
an egg yolk at morning
a daffodil delivered in the vase by her bed
her favorite childhood doll now resting in her arms
She couldn't see the yellow, all muddled with everything else
But she knew it was there
Believed,
Looked,
Imagined, and 
Trusted.

One day she asked for a break outdoors, 
with the yellow sun in the bright blue sky she had asked about.
Bundled in blankets, her head gently nestled in full pillows,
Loved ones next to her
A nurse giddy to leave for a few minutes.
She felt the warmth soak onto her skin,
Heard birds chirping in the clearness, and 
Smelled crisp air, so she knew the sun was yellow
Believed,
Looked up,
Imagined, and 
Trusted.

The eyes danced with shapes and colors scattering,
Pulling in and out of focus,
Strains of brightness striking new blows, and 
Little by little the colors starting to come into focus.

The days she left, she felt the quiver of spring's chill 
In the bottom of the breeze and a softer warmth for just a moment.
Well, she didn't really, but she knew about spring winds, and she 
Believed, 
Open her arms, 
Imagined, and 
Trusted.

Were there two birds she heard sitting outside?
What was the taste? Did she even know?  She could remember, and so she would
With each morning, then after the naps, and into the evening
She would assign what she knew to be true, 
Believing,
Opening her mind to remember,
Imagining, and
Trusting.

It was when the blossoms came two months later,
When the lavenders, lilacs, pinks, creams, and soft greens 
Dappled together in whispered breezes
And spread across her one day in the garden
That she again saw the yellow, shyly lifting in happiness and hope.
The brightness filled her, and she looked and looked and looked 
Once more and always
Through soft tears of joy.