Color Me Jesus



Color Me Jesus

Father, I try

To live amongst them and
live in it.

But not be one of them or
part of it.

Potential stretches.
Pressure increases.
Massive confusion.

Spinning on the spot
between each world.

A numbness takes over.

Now I can't relate
to know them,
to show them.

The sword sharpened by passion
is now dulled by confusion.

I'm an anxious, perfectionist mind,
too blind, and black and white to see
that it's not a color of this world that I'm trying to see
and trying to be.

Don't color me black, white, green,
yellow, red, blue,
or any hue.

Color me 'Jesus'.
'Cause Father,
I wanna be like you.



They're looking on my page judging, but I can't draw well at all. So I melt my crayons, make a sculpture, and set it on the page. It'll look like a mess until they lower their point of view from above to be from the side, where they'll see my 3D sculpture. So I sculpt and wait. Ignoring hostile eyes and tongues hovering over. Smiling into the humbled eyes around.


Patience, love, and persistence pave to such dimensions.