Subject: ROBERTS' RULES: RAINBOW
From: "Shelly Roberts" <[email-masked]>
Date: Thu, 11 Mar 1999 14:33:58 +0000

ROBERTS' RULES 

by Shelly Roberts

I AM THE RAINBOW

On the days when it doesn't seem worth it. When you think that maybe
they were right. That "queer" and "freak" and "abomination" seem to
have your name on the list. When "outsider" and "other"  or "faggot"
or "dyke" want to claim your autograph, remember. You are the rainbow.

When never seems bigger than always, and always seems like a terrible
place to be, remember. You are the rainbow.

When darkness wants to win more than anything. When love feels empty
or too much work, remember. When family is a foreign country, and you
can't seem to find your passport, remember. When "everybody" seems to
mean "everybody but you," remember. YOU are the rainbow.

RED is the heat and the purity of  your goodness. The fire of the love
in the universe you have all the right to claim. Red is the heart of
your wholeness. The flame of your perfect soul. Red is the  sunrise
promise of being all. Red hot. Red pepper bite of the edge, of the
excitement, of the burnful flavor of the truths that set you free.
Indian red. Venetian red. Crimson. Cinnabar, Vermilion. Red is the
filling blood. The life force river you ride.  Red is the rose-colored
glass half full. The magic slippers. The full bloom of the claret. Red
is the letter day. The town you will paint. The last cent you will
spend which returns full fold. Red is the rainbow. You are the
rainbow.

ORANGE is the citrus zip of the brink. Orange is the sweet peach tang
of the subtlety of the flavor. The copper burnish of your experience.
Orange is the clockwork we've had to live by up till now. Orange is
the paradise bird who flies at your shoulder. Orange is the juice of
an enemy's glass crushed into dust and into diamonds we could spend on
our own behalf. Orange is the agent of our discontent, our driver till
we can make everything human again, and in perfect balance restored.
Orange is the pal of black's ghosts and gobblins we put behind us
every hour on our way. Orange is all the afterglow. Orange is the
rainbow. You are the rainbow.

YELLOW is the taxi on our way to Where. Yellow is the phosphorus
fireworks we make in concert. Yellow is blue's co-conspirator in
green's creation. The lemon bite. The golden pot. Rainbow's reward.
The loves-me/loves me daisy in your daily bouquet. Here comes the sun.
Yellow is the rainbow. You are the rainbow.

GREEN is the grass of home we've had to struggle to invent. Green is
too many frogs to kiss in one lifetime. Green is ever, and the future
as we decide to grow it. Green is the olive spurt and accent we
repeatedly select for spicing. Green is the cricket song that lures us
on, sure and cyclic as the locust. Green is the square of the village
gathering around us in our favor. Green is the occasional lime-tang
sweetness-sour that bears witness to our own life's drink and our
delicious contrasts. Green is a warm moist house to look safe out
from, in our nurturance and abundance, at the sometimes chill of the
isolating out-there. Green pepper, the sweet-taste self-contradiction
to the words they use in our description. The aquamarine and malachite
and jade of our richness, and our solid treasure. Green is the
sour-tart satisfying contrast. Green is the perpetuality of the sea.
Green is the rainbow. You are the rainbow.

BLUE is the sky's limit of our possibilities. The ocean depth of our
love. Blue is the edgy flavor of the cheese that gives such delicious
differentiation. Blue is the tiny highway map lines that find us in
all the corners and the hiding places. Blue is a once-in-a-while moon
we thought we'd never accomplish and were wrong. Blue is the song
we've sung too long in silence. Blue is where the bolt comes from out
of. The wild yonder. The suede shoes. Blue is the rainbow. You are the
rainbow.

PURPLE is the prose and the passion. The perfect plum for thumb's
pulling. Love's lavender light. Purple is the deep. The brilliant,
imaginary cow. The mountain's majesty. Purple is the royal WE. Purple
is the rainbow. You are the rainbow.

Sometimes it's hard to hold onto the rainbow when the world is only
serving up gray. Or black and white. Remember. I am the rainbow. You
are the rainbow. WE are the rainbow. Together, we are each a horse of
a different color. We give off such a joyful, lovely light. 

We ARE the rainbow.

___________________________
(C) 1999. Shelly Roberts. All rights reserved. A one-time simultaneous
print right is hereby granted to subscribing newspapers; all other
rights, including electronic or digital reproduction are reserved.
Must be reprinted only in its entirety with permission.

Shelly Roberts is an internationally syndicated columnist, journalist
and author of the 1999 Roberts' Rules of Lesbian Living Daily
Calendar. (Spinsters Ink.) And the possible dreamer and producer of
The Rainbow Celebration Concert, Atlanta, October, 2000.