A Rainbow of Grace

Deep in sorrow I walked the walk of grief,

Feeling in my hurting heart the pain of loss.

Each beat a reminder of them and their sweet

faces now facing an enemy grown by greed.


The rainbows arched across the sky, spilling

their palette of colours as it stretched until

it sank into the seething sea, and shared its 

delight in the writhing waves of the sea water.


I reached for a brush and paper wanting to

replicate the delicate hues, and share my own

pleasure in a prism given to us signifying that

God’s creation is a gift that cannot be compared.


I lay and watched and thoughts flowed through a

third eye to another place. There, there is water

and a dome of coloured rocks and everywhere

dancing painted arcs that ripple and flow with


every combination and complication forming

and reforming red, gold, fern green, palest pink,

prime colours and even those we cannot see,

as if a paint chart is playing its own concerto.


I opened my eyes and the sky was going grey,

the loss of the grace of that moment grieved

by the heart, yet still in my mind’s eye it lived,

and over the horizon a growing darkness filled


the skies and brought me back to the gloom

of dying children and forest fires breaking

the chain of life and deepening the crush of 

a changing climate that will cause a cataclysm. 


From a grateful gift of grace I walked on 

with a rainbow of hope pulsing with the

rays of refracted sunlight, a lighthouse 

of hope in a dark and troubled moment.

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margins are a great place sometimes because it is where change happens fastest but it is also a horrible place when we are stuck in them and grace is the moment when we can see that someone cares.

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