It is not always red.
Sometimes it takes a softer shade:
A gentle blue, a mystic green,
A joyful gold, a tired jade.
I’ve seen it shades of white before,
Ivory, and once just grey—
I saw it black as nightmares, once
(A story for another day).
Orange and rose I’ve seen before.
Purple, also, deep and strange.
Brown for wearing every day.
Amber when the seasons change—
The spectrum here is limitless—
Any less makes God no artist.
Love is never always red
As red is never always love.