The cloths of heaven

It was cold, sub-zero temperatures — and yet the air was so alive with crystals of moisture. There, at the end of the street, I saw a rainbow, which later on went to weave its colours into the clouds and skies.

Bringing to mind one of my favourite poems by W.B. Yeats…

HAD I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

For more magical skies, please visit: Skywatch!