Would you cross to the other side of the street
so as not to pass a brown house?
Shaking on the inside trying to go unnoticed,
like a cat-fearing mouse?
The color of one's house makes no determination
of who dwells inside;
Why do you think the beige or peach house better,
could it be your pride?
Could not the same Lord you serve
be content to dwell in there?
Or do you think He discriminates too,
tending to better the fair?
If we are but a spirit and when we die
we fly out of this tent,
Why consider what will be left behind,
rather than the inward content?
Photo by RT Norland
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