10/05/2026
MAKING RAINBOWS
They watched the world in monochrome, where black and white were law,
But she had found the colours born where broken edges thaw.
They called the darkness danger, and the light the only way,
But she had watched them meet inside the dawn of every day.
She knew that rain was not a curse, and sunshine not the crown,
For both must touch the open sky before the bow comes down.
The storm became her teacher, and the radiance her guide
Till every dark wound begged to crack, just to taste the light.
They judged her from a colourless and narrow, frozen view,
While she made violet from the ache and tenderness from blue.
They feared the space between two truths, where softer wisdom grows,
But she had learned the deepest love is rarely monochrome.
So let them keep their black and white, their verdicts and their stone,
She’ll paint with every shade she earned from walking storms alone.
For angels are not made of light untouched by darkened things,
They are the ones who turn the rain to colour on their wings.
Now watch her rise beyond the grey they tried to make her see,
An angel making rainbows, dancing with duality.
They called her lost for seeing more than their eyes ever show
But she's too drenched in colour to hear tones of monochrome.
Heather Lea