If on high we saw no rainbow
And heard no birds so sweetly call
And felt no warmth of sunshine
Would color still be color after-all

If we couldn't see the hillside blossom
And darkness ruled our day
While cooling breezes ceased to stay
Would God's wonder bloom there anyway

If love we knew was obsolete
As coldness over-ran the heart
With no goodness found upon the path
Would God still show His art

Yes, the painting's His, the color His
His love the brush with every breath
He ever paints upon our world
And spills it everywhere as pledged

For all we live, we breathe of Him
His life transforms our shadowed soul
Our hope is held in His palette
The color He, that makes us whole

Soft Whispers from
Derry's Heart Poems © 2006
heartwhispers@iinet.net.au


I believe in the sun
even when it isn't shining
I believe in love
even when I can't feel it
I believe in God
even when He is silent
Keep your faith in all beauty that truly abounds:
in the sun when it is hidden, in the spring when it is gone
in the color of God behind a rising cloud

 

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