Rainbow

Josh Garrels turns the familiar rainbow image into something closer to a resurrection vision. The opening lines place the listener past the end of the world, where an old river runs down streets of gold and the light of men shines without a sun. Weary travelers are invited to lay down their bones, and a parent's voice promises that trouble will not touch the son who comes home. The middle verses walk through the full spectrum — red blood falling to the earth, orange flames burning away dross and shame, yellow harvest, white winter yielding to green growth, blue floodwaters, indigo wings of healing, and a black sky at the death of the promised one. That descent into darkness is not the end: the song rises to the Lord of the skies enthroned on the clouds. The color sequence becomes a quiet liturgy of judgment, mercy, and restoration, with each hue carrying a piece of the story. The repeated chorus returns to rest and homecoming, holding out the promise that the weary will find shelter and that the son who returns will be safe. It's a lullaby and a creed at once, sung with the patience of someone who has watched the storm and still trusts the clearing.