“My heart leaps up when I behold a rainbow in the sky.” Perceptive man, Wordsworth. In youth, I ran through fields seeking the rainbow’s leprechaun. As a young adult, I sang Dorothy’s song of longing.
Now, I’m an old lady in a nursing home. I’m lucky; my room has a window. I sit in my wheelchair, and stare at a rainbow. Not in the sky, mind you. On the floor. Made from the prism my daughter placed on my window sill.
I can no longer run. My voice has turned raspy. But my heart still leaps up.
Wise man, Wordsworth.
