A few days ago
two rainbows brushed across
a late day sky
it seemed nobody else noticed
so I wondered if they were…
no, they couldn’t possibly be…
not meant for me.
Not in a million years.
Or have I been waiting that long
for the story to return
from the ancient garden
when we could gaze at the sun
to this cracked vessel I am now?
The sliver of moon
is hanging heavy in the valley
tonight, but there’s a star,
sparkling over running waters,
whispering “let’s not talk of sin…”
I cool my feet in the water
and reach upward for warmth; open,
there is only love
The Word Rummager 
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