Drops of Color/ Painting Faces

Drops of Color
Painting Faces

How is it we choose
the colors we do?

Perhaps, the colors choose us?

When I dab 
a drop of blue,
I become the sky
—eternal my reach, like wings
spread east to west.

An array of red hues
becomes cardinals
—their song gliding
with each stroke of the brush.

Soft shades of brown
—I am earth
breathed out of soil.
Suddenly, ‘green’ sprouts all
around
—bushes, trees
bloom like a kaleidoscope
twirling themselves—
changing, becoming always NEW.

Yellow bursts of daffodils,
I become.

Purple violets paint a scene
within, a face
orange—a flame,
yet unconsumed
rising from its center.

All the colors painting faces.

Black, the splendor
which all things began

—a void,
and the dark made room to
fulfill a spectrum
of colors—LIGHT.

I see faces
in every color.

Most of all
I see You
—the designer
—who places in my hand
the instrument to create
the You
who dwells
in me

AND

in every puddle of 
paint
whose circle widens
with one single drop.