The color of the morning sun.
Calling on unfaltering days.
Upward the arc, top at noon,
Down again, till evening sways.
The color of the clearing sky:
Air to waving, whistling wings.
Inspiring us to look that way,
Your glory and stillness sings.
The color of the lovely rose.
Beauty blossoms above the thorn.
Fragrant flower of choice
Raising passions duly born.
The color of the breathing plants.
Sending forth fruit and grain.
With the wind you dance the dance,
To be buried and rise up again.
The color of the thriving soil.
Cradle of living things.
The depths contain your secrets,
Making good your offerings.
The color of the darkest night.
Keeper of enchanted sound.
Eyes peek through your fabric;
Their twinkling numbers confound.
The color of the swollen clouds,
Measuring out blessing and wrath.
Nature wrings her heavenly towels,
The world enjoys a needed bath.
The color of the purest snow,
Erasing earth’s jagged line.
You blanket with a chilly calm,
And speak of things divine.