By virtue of contact your color colors mine
For good or ill
Sins or victories of the fathers
Don’t just trickle
But torrent with dizzying effects.
No matter how inconvenient (or unsavory),
There is no rock or island existence
As a child of people.
But we are not doomed
To others’ – or even our own – mistakes, missteps, sins.
Our Father, our Brother,
Beckon us to higher, firmer ground.
The path is narrow – yes – but it is sure.
Family resemblance? I hope.
Like a long-together couple,
May I look more and more like Him.
May the torrent of His love
Never slow to a trickle:
May the family resemblance
Trump, cover, erase to oblivion
Any impurities or uglinesses left over or
Potentially passed on.
May I be radiant with His color:
And so color these.