Rainbow season: it’s raining colors!
The rainbow never tells me
That gust and storm are by,
Yet is she more convincing
Than Philosophy. – Emily Dickinson
The Rainbow Never Tells Me
by Emily Dickinson
The rainbow never tells me
That gust and storm are by,
Yet is she more convincing
Than Philosophy.
My flowers turn from Forums—
Yet eloquent declare
What Cato couldn’t prove me
Except the birds were here!
On this long storm the Rainbow rose
by Emily Dickinson
On this long storm the Rainbow rose—
On this late Morn—the Sun—
The clouds—like listless Elephants—
Horizons—straggled down—
The Birds rose smiling, in their nests—
The gales—indeed—were done—
Alas, how heedless were the eyes—
On whom the summer shone!
The quiet nonchalance of death—
No Daybreak—can bestir—
The slow—Archangel’s syllables
Must awaken her!
Resources
Credits
It’s rainbow season in the north. The rains are washing the skies, crystal clarity emerges from deluges.
Photos on this page are by Festina Lentívaldi, (be) Benevolution. Reuse: Creative Commons BY-NC 3.0 US.
More poetry, visual index, here>
For the interim time
Subscribe
Get the newsletter (story summary).
Recent posts
Easter unfolding
I am absorbed as I step into the galleries exploring a timeling of growth—our society changing for collecitve care.
It has been done in art. Done in enduring collective structures. And I feel deeply connected to the inner shifts that are developed and illustrated in these Florence galleries.
Unfolding realities
One in fifty billion: At these odds I’m looking for what else is real and, while it does not serve me to hold onto conventional worldviews, unfolding into bigger realities is challenging.
Love Life Aliveness
We know transformation emerges from new ways of thinking and being. However, the how is less clear. Three calls for this: to love, to aliveness, to life. Two practices. One love!
0 Comments