Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why

"Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away." — so mused Carl Sandburg, the bard of the American people, whose words often glowed with both simplicity and mystery. In this vision, Sandburg describes poetry as something both elusive and eternal: a phantom script, invisible and intangible, yet capable of revealing the hidden workings of life. It is the writing that cannot be seen on the page, the silent language that speaks of wonder, impermanence, and the eternal cycle of beauty that comes and goes, like the fleeting arc of a rainbow in the sky.

To call poetry a phantom script is to acknowledge its strange nature. Poetry is never simply the words written in ink — it is the music between them, the silence around them, the resonance they awaken in the heart. It is like a ghostly writing upon the air, glimpsed but never grasped. Sandburg reminds us that poems point beyond themselves, to truths that cannot be fully captured by reason or science. They explain not merely the physical process of how rainbows are made, but the feeling of wonder when we see them, the sorrow when they fade, and the mystery of why beauty is always passing.

In his metaphor, rainbows are more than natural phenomena; they are symbols of all transient beauty, of joy that arrives unannounced and leaves just as suddenly. Poetry, he says, tells us why this is so. It does not offer equations or proofs, but it gives us meaning. It teaches us that impermanence is not to be feared but embraced, that beauty’s power lies in its brevity. The rainbow is glorious precisely because it does not stay. Poetry helps us understand this paradox: the fleeting nature of beauty is what gives it its eternal worth.

Consider how the ancient Japanese haiku poets, like Bash?, embodied this truth. They wrote of a frog leaping into water, of cherry blossoms falling, of autumn winds stirring. Their poems were phantom scripts, not explanations of nature in scientific terms, but revelations of why such moments mattered to the human soul. In their brevity they mirrored the brevity of beauty, and through their verses they taught the world to see not only how rainbows appear but also why their vanishing makes the heart ache.

History too reflects Sandburg’s wisdom in the story of Shelley’s "Ode to the West Wind." The poet wrote of the fierce winds of autumn, destructive yet renewing, a force that scatters leaves but also prepares the soil for new life. Here, poetry is not a literal script of the wind’s mechanics but a phantom script that explains the deeper truth: destruction and beauty are interwoven, endings give birth to beginnings, and the rainbow fades so that we may long for its return. The poem does not measure; it reveals.

The lesson for us, O seeker, is clear: look to poetry not for facts, but for meaning. Science will tell us the prism of raindrops and the refraction of light, but poetry will tell us why the rainbow touches our hearts, why its fading fills us with longing, why we feel both joy and sadness in its arc. Poetry is the invisible writing on the world that explains not "how things work," but "why they matter." It is the voice that whispers to us when reason falls silent.

Practical action is simple yet profound: when beauty passes before your eyes — a sunset, a rainbow, a fleeting smile — pause to let it speak. Do not rush past it in pursuit of permanence. Instead, write, sing, or reflect upon it. Allow poetry, whether in your own words or those of others, to give voice to the phantom script of your experience. In this way, you honor both the appearing and the vanishing of the rainbow.

Thus, Sandburg’s wisdom stands eternal: “Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.” It is the ghostly hand that writes upon the soul, teaching us that beauty is both gift and departure, presence and absence. To live with poetry is to live awake to the fragile splendor of life, to see not only with the eyes, but with the heart that understands why rainbows shine, and why they must fade.