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The Rainbow Knows




In the land of Cantobria,

rainbows wreathe

well-watered pastures,

hovering within reach,

touching west and east,

beckoning us beneath.


For there is magic

under their mystic light

appearing ever so near

to our earthly plight.


Tread barefoot, softly,

upon the glistening grass

to where its beams end (or begin).

Hold to that holy ground

where wave and particle meet.

Feel a subtle shift:

a lightness, a sense of lift.


Therein lies the secret, you suppose:

of separate colors within the same light,

of that ephemeral arc guiding every life.

What the rainbow already knows*,

will at once become your own insight.


- Carsten Sprotte


The final rhyme "suppose and knows" is a tribute to Robert Frost.



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