|It was a hard thing to undo this knot.|
The rainbow shines, but only in the thought
Of him that looks. Yet not in that alone,
For who makes rainbows by invention?
And many standing round a waterfall
See one bow each, yet not the same to all,
But each a hand's breadth further than the next.
The sun on falling waters writes the text
Which yet is in the eye or in the thought.
It was a hard thing to undo this knot.
|This poem appeared in Poem-A-Day on July 28, 2013. Browse the Poem-A-Day archive.|