Shall I paint you black, for in the beginning all was dark, desolate, waiting for your word?
Or red, the warm enclosed safe energy of pregnancy, lifeblood shed at birth, and death?
Will you be orange, a healing welcome in your calm soft comfort, or warning and protecting from danger?

Shall I paint you yellow, joyful springtime God, colour of alertness, surprise and the here and now?
Perhaps a verdant growing green of mossy mystery, summertime profusion, or decay?
Or are you blue, endless as sky and sea, beyond and distant, sometimes cool and hard?
Or would you suit me best in purple splendour, serene promise of luxury, and grief?
Shall I put all these together, rainbow God; are you white light? How can I paint such joy?
Or maybe I should mix my paints and find an incarnation brown of full ripe earthiness,
Shall I try pink? turquoise? acid greenish yellow?
Why did you create so many colours, God?
What colour shall I paint you?

© Diane Coleman 2005