What Color Am I

This poem addresses the unspoken racism that exist in the church, but can to apply to any race relations problems.

What Color Am I?

I sigh when I give thought to how so many compromises

Centering their focus on the color of one’s eyes

The shape of her thighs

How high he reaches the sky

The texture and length of his or her mane

I call out sin

My God a sin

To care too much about the color of one’s skin and not what’s within

So I pray my Father that He will soften the hearts of His people

Blind the nation’s eyes and bleach their skins

To tear down the Berlin Walls that separates us from within

So we only see one of the same

Because we all are to blame

To shave each man, woman and child’s head

And pour out the shed blood of Christ upon each head

So his glory will cause each to died to self-identity

Causing hands to interlock in unity

As the morning stars peer down from heavens

They shout in worship from what they see

The son of man running free

With bleach skin

Multicolor eyes

The glory of Christ upon their heads

And righteousness in their hearts

An ingathering of one nation, one love, one worship to glorify the King of Kings

So I ask again, what color am I

I am as transparent as the clear blue sky

The color of the wind as it blows by

As brilliant as the rainbow when it shines in its glory from up high

As dense as the rain that pours from the sky

I am a facet of color that is only visible to His eyes

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

With these inspired words, you've put a light on a problem that I fear will always exist. (Though I wish otherwise) I've said before that racism must be one of the most horrible attributes a person can have. And that very anglo-looking Jesus we see in nearly every artist's rendering--oh, boy. If Jesus lingered outside many of today's churches, the law would likely be called on him. I could go on and on, but this is about your excellent, heartfelt words. "The color of the wind as it blows by"--that's really nice.