Be My Color

An honest prayer for the weary at heart

Will you be the color when life
slips into the muted grays
of half-lived dreams and in-betweens?

Will you be the honey when
I can’t seem to sip the sweetness
and am left having to recall
the spring nectar of the last harvest?

Will you pour out grace
like fresh-pressed, oozing oil,
pooling in my hands,
dripping where I stand?

Will you be the wonder,
the rainbow and the fire,
to disturb my slumbered skin 
and cause a riot of joy?

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