Rainbow Mosaics

I slip with ease into a moment
That I traveled long ago
In old Vermont, and here am I.
As we drive closely to the bank
That skids along an apple peel of road,
It curls it's way up to the top
Of Thetford Hill. Just as we take a curve
We stare right out into the sky
And see, afloat in air,
The shimmer of a perfect sphere
Consisting of clear drops of light.
These form mosaics of pure rainbow hues
That seem in sheer delight
To sing of their own beauty. Oh, glorious gift of heaven!
So close that I can almost reach
And hold it in my arms.

by Esther F. Ryder

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