Under the Rhythmic Rainbow, Beyond the Lanes

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Under the Rhythmic Rainbow, Beyond the Lanes

This Poem dedicated to My Favorite Poetic Groups -Ida Cruise Rogue
Poetry for African School Children https://www.facebook.com/groups/455706371880780/
Beneath a sky of shifting hues,
silent voices gently drift,
each thought a ripple, clear and true,
through shadow, blessing, gift.
From colors born of quiet streams,
where words grow wings unseen,
truth dances in a softened gleam,
the spaces in between.
Fourlinegraphia-
under a rhythmic rainbow,
through every season,
where life learns how to speak.
Moments of living
melt into letters,
like butter on warm silence,
and rainbows nod in approval.
Yet down below, the city runs-
endless lanes where seconds strain,
Words collide with time itself,
a pulse bound tight in chains.
Behind thick walls of glowing screens,
Facebook’s gates stand tall and still,
comments muted, voices lean
against a coded will.
Heavy traffic, heavy words,
caught in webs we cannot see,
yet beneath the weight there stirs
a stubborn hope to breathe.
Children’s laughter cuts the noise,
eyes holding futures yet unnamed,
learning light, unbroken joys,
dreams untouched by rule or frame.
Adults watch with tender hearts,
lifting faith into the air,
honoring each fragile start,
their trust laid gently there.
Eyes closed,
the arrow of a poem is released-
not toward a target,
but toward truth.
Some words bloom into color,
others stand black and white,
honest, unafraid,
faithful to their weight.
No name can cage the gentle flame,
no face can bind its flight-
the soul’s own song, unnamed, untamed,
unfolding into light.
They call the voice Fourlinegraphia,
then meet the man-
yet the verse remains unchanged,
free of walls and faces.
Beyond the traffic, beyond the lists,
beyond mute screens and narrowed lanes,
a quieter world insists-
where words flow free again.
Call it color, call it shadow,
call it woman, call it man-
the poem knows only this:
to fly unseen,
and land where it must.
- Fourlinegraphia

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