Colours

Blue-gray the barren mountains of Moab at dusk . . . a tour bus winds its way up to Jerusalem, City of God, from Tel Aviv. How one feels, the emotion, is difficult to convey; the very mold of earth, contours of land, grip my heart and I feel a rising tide of tears sting my eyes. I am assaulted by colors, manifold and magnificent, that tantalize, pierce my inner being. The colors of humanity's face in multiple tones and shades of brown: pecan mahogany, cinnamon, hazelnut, walnut, bisque, ebony and tan; I see eyes of most unusual hues, the colors of sea mist, celery, black, pale jade, olive bark, tiger's eye, leaf of blue sage. This ancient land . . . world religions on parade in conflict claiming holy sites, the Temple Mount the ultimate, golden prize. I walk for days treasuring the feel of this earth beneath my feet, tramping dusty brown paths and secret ways in this place where Jesus lived and died. I bend beneath close gray rocks to gaze upon His birthplace in humble Bethlehem - a cave; I mark the stations of the cross where His love blazed in flames of blood red, marking His lonely, crowded path from scourging trial to Golgotha's skull marked hill; and there He offered up His pure white heart humanity's black sin to cover and my poor soul to fill. Faye Lanham Gibson Copyright, June 23, 2014