An Oil Spill on a Rainbow

An Oil Spill on a Rainbow

Soul, dear, what say you?
Is there a stain of purest blue?
Or is there a tint of Earl Grey?
Perhaps a yellow so gay?

A dash of green,
with a purple sheen,
and a cloak of red
from hearts you've bled?

A beam of light
shining white,
with violent violet
standing inviolate?

Then lonely black,
standing back,
with siren call
colors all.

The colors of rainbow
Too dark, though,
mixed with ink
just before the brink.

Can you be washed clean,
without losing the colored dream?
Can you strip the taint
or cover it, coated paint?

Nay, nay, says the soul.
This stealth cannot be my goal.
Why should I hide
after all the years I've cried?

Don't shoulder the pain,
nor drop it again,
Accept the life
Both sorrow and strife.

This thing you call taint
Won't make a saint
but nor are we hellbound
Listen! Make no sound!

A note,  a chord,
A song to a Lord,
I sing and dance
frolic and prance

For simply living on earth
straddling the massive girth
wades you through mud
through tears and blood

But this is you,
mortal one, you.
For as you move,
how else can you prove
You've been here all along?