Today I drove in the sunshine as the rain poured down from a confused heaven. The white-crowned clouds with a blue-sky backdrop reflected in the highway's glass veneer. And then the same picture appeared on the old river road, but as pieces of a puzzle; potholes on this old road were filled witth reflections, clear and sharp as a glossy photograph.
Today I saw the end of a rainbow! Never before in my four decades have I had this pleasure. The rainbows' ends that I have seen before have always been obscure. They faded out near the ground or apparently dropped behind something in the distance. But today I saw the very ends of a rainbow! At first sight the child in me laughed out loud and pointed and exclaimed, "Look at that!" It was a brightly colored rainbow, very lowly arced in the darkness of the rain clouds. The top of the bow appeared to be held down by the mounds of thunderheads. The rainbow's appearance in the dark part of the sky made its' color even more vivid. I drove toward the east in the sunshine and under blue sky, waiting and watching for the storm clouds moving toward my bus. They moved toward me as I moved toward them. The sky was in constant transformation as the great shadow looming over in the east forebodingly rolled across to the west. The dark shadow was topped with white bellows leading the way, abounding in layers over the solid mass of falling rain.
This storm played many delightful games with my senses. The changes in the wind were exhilarating. It had been mild and warm, and then it changed drastically with a new chill. The wind seemed to churn and sweep in from every direction, causing my hair to whip around my face and lash at my cheeks and forehead. The thunder seemed to punctuate my exuberance, causing a tremor from my eardrums resonating throughout all my fleshly body. At times the rainbow in its extremely low arc was all but hidden, and the effect was that of something from the earth shinning these vibrant colors outward. Excitement filled me as If I knew that I was about to win the lottery. I then understood how the fable of the "Pot of gold at the end of the rainbow" had come into being. I kept driving in anticipation toward what appeared to be the rainbow's end.
Then I saw it!
I saw the rainbows end! It was magically glowing with each and every color, but it also reflected a pot-of-gold hue in a mist where the colors seemed to mingle. It alighted on the highway directly in front of me. My minds-eye saw my astral body basking and bathing in the mist,... feeling substance unseen,... experiencing every shade or tinge,... dancing in the street imbued with the rainbow's end. I became the rainbow, feeling the cool refreshing mist replacing my skin,... as it touched me,... as I touched myself in a caressing hug. Each color had its own musical tune. Each shade of purple tasted of its own fine wine. Every shade of all the colors fulfilled a desire, a longing, or a hunger in me.
Back in the driver's seat, I kept driving; I passed my designated turn off to try to see if I could actually drive through the prism. But alas, elusive as they are, the rainbow refracted into a mirage, dispersing into the distance. But as I drove through the approximate place where the end of the rainbow had appeared, the unsuspecting road seemed to be holding a golden mist. At that time I looked for the other end of the rainbow. Low and behold, there it was! In the near distance a mile or so away, it showered a group of trees like a transmuting spotlight enveloping them in the glowing mist. What a joy of living in this world I did feel. How thankful was I for my sight and my insight. What a love I did feel throughout my being. That transmuting esoteric mist that I entered seemed also to envelop my heart, changing my humdrum workday into a conversation with my loving God. It was more precious that any pot of gold.
Today I drove in the sunshine as the rain poured down from a confused heaven. The white-crowned clouds with a blue-sky backdrop reflected in the highway's glass veneer. And then the same picture appeared on the old river road, but as pieces of a puzzle; potholes on this old road were filled witth reflections, clear and sharp as a glossy photograph.
