A Rainbow

Yet, the gorgeous light
still cascades down like a waterfall,
its spectrum of hues bright, intense,
undeniable.

I was taught that a rainbow
was a promise,
a secret message
to tell us
that the Universe
will never again flood our land–
will never again cause us to drown.

Sometimes it feels like that promise
has been broken,
that we are all drowning
in hatred and fear and chaos.
It feels as if the heavens
have not heard our pleas for absolution,
for peace.

Yet, the gorgeous light
still cascades down like a waterfall,
its spectrum of hues bright, intense,
undeniable.
I wonder if we have misinterpreted its meaning.

Maybe the rainbow is a reminder to move forward,
to empathize, to unlearn bad information,
and to fill ourselves with better knowledge.
Maybe the rainbow is a reminder to never do harm
to one another with our words and our actions.
Maybe the rainbow is a reminder
to set our gaze and our focus
on light,
even as it streams
through lingering droplets of rain.


Photo by Raine Nectar on Pexels.com

This poem was inspired by Photo Challenge #319 from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie.

I found this wonderful article about white privilege and racial microaggressions written by Lori Lakin Hutcherson. Check it out if you want to read about Hutcherson’s experiences and learn more about these issues.

Silver Moon Rises, Or And the Rockets’ Red Glare

there is fighting for the freedoms
that the comfortable among us
thought were won a century ago

the sunset shades of red and orange
and the black of the city below
the tumult of the world
in hue
the needless bloodshed
the destruction of morals
the sense of
utter hopelessness

there is fighting for the freedoms
that the comfortable among us
thought were won a century ago
or half a century ago
or a decade ago.
so why is the sky still filled with red,
with anger
with vitriol?
it’s crying out in solidarity
with those
who currently battle for change

the sky says nothing more,
just stares down
at the torn-up town,
brow furrowed,
face red-hot
with rage

a lone, shadowed man stands at his window
as the birds caw and flee
from his rooftop.
through the glass,
he sees the red, the orange,
he sees the faintly tinted violet
peeking through,
and he sees the silver sliver of a moon
rising over it all


Photo by Mind Core

This was written in response to Photo Challenge #318 from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie.

Also shared on earthweal’s open link weekend.