The Colors of Winter
A Rainbow Rebus
Will de Kypia
ðŽ ðĶ ð
Written while traveling
through California on![]()
4ïļâĢ. ½ ðĩhe year we are.®ïļ.a deserâ.
â r
in falls,.vegeðīaðīion vanisheso
Fields wiðĩher, hills bake brâĻïļwnðĄ
ðĨur EDEN, scðĨrched by a relenðĩless sâïļn,
ð
°ïļppðS .âī_.ð_.
_ðĪ..ðŽ..â°ïļð
ð_—ð
We wait serenely, ©ïļonfident tð, just as an
infusion of freshðĐļrevives flesh perishing from a
lâ ïļck of oxygen, the coming winter ð§s will
restâŊïļre _this _land _âĨðĢ _.ferâïļile _.lðĶfeðļ
ââ
âš
ðīhe_RAINs_will pðĻint SPRING_in
sudden_bursðīs_ ðģf_cðŧlðr -
ðē deep ðēvðĨcðēdðĨ_green,
Pre¢10u$_Pðđppy_Gðld,
ðīhe_Pink_âïļðĨ_m.
gn.ðļli
,
Savðry MuâĄïļðīard_yellðw.
âēnâ· they will surely..ðŠī
BOUQUETS .. ðĶf .. wðldflðžwers
in a whðģle_ð_of âïļINTs & âïļones
âïļð§ŋ…MðKE..â―UR..eden an eden _AâĄðē!N.![]()
Let us pray