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.