Poem October 12, 1929 Issue

[Written for the Sentinel]

The Rainbow

ESTHER BRINTON

It rains;
All earth is weeping
Rivulets of tears.
But there—the sun!
And all earth's tears shine golden,
Each one a glorious thing.
And back above the town
A miracle of color
Arches, bends, and sings
In graceful ecstasy of joy!

It rains.
Sometimes, within my heart
A storm beats down;
My head is bowed.
But lo—the sun—
The truth shines forth!
Each teardrop is transformed
Into a glorious thing;
And deep within my heart—
Oh, wondrous miracle—
There shine the hues of God.
Man is revealed!

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