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There is a bridge from here to the final rest we seek. It is called the Rainbow Bridge because of its many colors, and we can even see it sometimes in a misty way. It is rare, this glimpse, and so very special. What we cannot see is the meadow at its foot, a beautiful place of streams and wildflowers, soft breezes and the sweetest of sounds. It is to this enchanted meadow that our dearest pets go when they do leave our arms. And they are made whole and vibrant. Each is perfect, all senses restored, all limbs buoyant. They bask in the forever sun of our love for them, and they play together with the abandon of young and inquisitive hearts. The days pass uncounted, and they don't really know that they wait. But on any given day, one pet stands perfectly still. Play around him is forgotten. His body trembles with a memory, his eyes shine with delight. He bounces on his toes once.... twice.... and he runs to you even before you emerge from the mist. You gather your treasured pet in your arms again. And finally now, you can promise to never let go. And the Bridge shimmers (in a misty sort of way), and those of us here, still waiting, watch in wonder as you cross it together. Rewritten by Betty Zubritsky |
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