This morning, I rehearsed Who You are;
I repeated the Truth about You that I know.
This evening, on a drive through Texas country,
My eyes saw again Your promises in the bow.
You swiped Your artist brush
In a little sky corner after the rain.
You let me title Your little bow art:
"I'm with you in all of life's drought and pain."
I'm thankful for the rain! Without the long drought, would this small rainbow have caught the eye?