If My Spirit Were Painted in Colours…

It started with a simple question—

"If I were a colour, what would I be?"

That thought stayed with me. It lingered like the echo of a brushstroke not yet painted. Because how do we speak the truth of our hearts, when words sometimes fail to carry it all?

As someone who writes about grief, healing, and love that lingers long after loss… I often find that colour speaks when language cannot. There’s a reason certain shades draw tears from our eyes, or comfort us in quiet ways.

Grief has colours.

Healing has colours.

So do we.

In this poem, I tried to imagine what my spirit might look like—not as words, but as paint, laid across a canvas shaped by sorrow and softened by grace.

If My Spirit Were Painted in Colours, Not Words

If my spirit were painted in colours, not words,

you’d see silver in silence,

where pain never stirred.

A shimmer of stillness,

of years I held tight,

a hush in the darkness

that never found light.

You’d find deep, quiet teal—

like breath in the rain,

the colour of sorrow

that softened the pain.

The shade of endurance,

of standing alone,

of grieving,

yet growing

in places unknown.

There’d be charcoal and ash

where the hardest nights stayed,

where memory haunted

but never decayed.

Not ruin, not rage,

but embers that gleam—

the kind that still warm you

inside of a dream.

Then white in the corners,

not empty, but wide—

for laughter once shared

and the tears that we hide.

For the frame that still holds

what the heart can't erase,

a child, a whisper,

a sacred, safe space.

And gold—

not too shiny,

but worn in the seams,

the colour of healing,

of stitched-up dreams.

It glows without shouting,

it holds without fear—

the tone of a soul

still choosing to be here.

What Colours Are You?

This poem is not just mine—it’s a mirror.

For anyone who has endured loss, carried silent battles, or walked the slow, brave path of healing… I invite you to ask:

If your spirit were painted in colours, what would it be?

Would there be blue for longing?

Green for the growth no one saw?

Grey for the waiting?

Or maybe a thread of amber for that one laugh you never forgot?

You don’t have to be a painter. Just take a moment. Close your eyes. Let your heart speak in colour.

A Gentle Prompt for You:

What colour reminds you of someone you’ve lost?

What does love feel like as a colour today?

Has your palette changed over time?

I’d love to hear your reflections. Feel free to share them in the comments, journal them privately, or paint them if you feel called to.