Godrays

Driving home

I see a towering cloudbank on the horizon

Through a wide gap, a tendril arcing over,

the lowering sun blazes in startling beams

of gold

God rays, some call them

As if they can't believe something so breathtaking could ever be

simply random

But it is

Even as I watch the cloud formation

changes

Altered by the whims of chance

By tomorrow it will be gone

Forever

Except in my memory