After the Downpour

The puddles all ’round were still, smooth at last. Except beneath the trees, their bark soaked, leaves dripping. Someone looked up, “Hey! A rainbow!” and everyone turned, no matter what they were doing. Against the dark blue-purpley clouds, squeezed empty of their load, a perfect arc of prismed light. Dim at first, its hues brightened as we watched. We were in shadow, gray and gloom, but there beyond, and up, the tops of pine, palm and cedar were lit with the brilliant red-gold of a dying sun, and over all, a promise writ in living color. Its hopeful decree announced, the rainbow faded, we shivered with cold, we turned to go, the light still in our eyes, ready to tell anyone, why we were smiling so.

(Part of a creative writing assignment for the awesome homiletics class I'm taking.)