Sign From Heaven

Just this afternoon, I was able to capture on film an absolutely wonderful sight... a colorful arch, both tranquil and powerful!
A rainbow is but an optical illusion created when the sun's rays hit droplets of moisture in the atmosphere. Unreal it may be, for one can never hold a rainbow like one can do to a tree, but its existence is established by many a person's imagination... in poems, prose and songs... connecting the lovers and the dreamers like me.


" Rainbows are visions, but only illusions and rainbows have nothing to hide. So we've been told and some choose to believe it. I know they're wrong, wait and see. Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection. The lovers, the dreamers and me."

Remember the leprechaun's pot of gold at the end of the rainbow? The rainbow being merely an optical effect, the end appears farther the nearer one gets. Chasing after this pot,  as one does chasing after wealth, pleasure and fame, will only expose the fantasy and result to frustration and possibly shame. 


OVER the rainbow is a place of hope...where troubles are extinct and dreams are fulfilled.

"Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue and the dreams that you dare to dream, really do come true. Someday, I ll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me...where troubles melt like lemon drops, away above the chimney tops, that's where you'll find me."


Wouldn't it be nice, to at least try, to live our lives, creating the world, like the one over the rainbow?

My personal rainbow: A sign of God's faithfulness. After the rain, the rainbow appears. After the hurt, a fresh start... a fulfillment of a promise. God has not forgotten and will never forget.

Comments

ness said…
geen,

your pics are too small. make 'em bigger! para ma appreciate better. esp such a lovely scene as a rainbow.
Anonymous said…
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.


Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.