The Light at the Back of the Raindrop

Catch some fractured light if you can

of no size, no distance,

and of no real existence,

and hold it in your hearts.

The light at the back of the raindrop

snagged its clothes,

and left a piece behind.

*

And when viewed from a hundred miles, or none,

turned out that the light

in elusive transit

through millions of raindrops

did the same in rainbow shades of color.

*

If capturing all those torn and broken pieces of light

through some sleight of hand

we could mend and sew

each one into a quilt

made up of smiles they brought about,

or knot the strands of its memory into a carpet

to soothe our feet upon the stony ground

we must often walk,

preferring useful objects sometimes

it would certainly be bright

and remind us of the promise

not to destroy the earth again by watering

too much with others’ tears.

*

Or catch one drop of water in our outstretched palms

before allowing it to slip again into the sea.

Broken water strong enough to break light

is at a loss when joined.

We comprehend its essence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The fifth of six spring seasons in the traditional lunisolar calendar of Japan is called seimei (清明) Pure and Clear. The season is divided into three micro-seasons, the last of which occurs from April 15–19, and is known as niji hajimete arawaru (虹始見) First Rainbows.

My research on rainbows for this piece led me to the Atmospheric Optics blog “How far is the rainbow?” and the concept of no physical existence, distance or size.

I invite you come with me as I explore the poetic nature of these short seasons and gather them in my list Micro-Season Poem Cycle available with a Medium subscription. This piece was originally published in Scribe by Thomas Gaudex, editor. Several of the seventy-two poems are also available to read here on Vocal Media.