At the End of the Rainbow
At the end of the rainbow, dreams unfold.
And some people say there is a pot of gold.
How well I recall a rainbow one day
that shone in the sky when a storm went away.
Rain pelted my car; I felt so afraid.
But as I neared home, it started to fade.
The sky, once so dark, grew more and more blue.
I thrilled next to see a rainbow arch through!
It bent toward the mountains, so beautiful,
a peace and great joy welled up in my soul.
No pot of gold at its end did I see,
but still there was gold and it beckoned to me.
The mountains were gilded with a bright gleam.
This is the magic that makes poets dream!
When I got home, I took paper and pen
and wrote of that beauty, God's promise to men.
Again I recall how my soul lifted.
At the rainbow's end, God's love is gifted.
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