Spectrum

This is not a poem about clouds, or weather,
or even the sun
but about the way light behaves just before it is blocked,
minimized, or otherwise obscured
by revealing itself as holding all colors, each pigment, every tone
in a vibrant, generous gleaming, gilding the vapor that would try to dim it
with what spills no secret,
breaks no rules,
denies no one their place in the spectrum
no matter how menacing the view.