The head of the rainbow
Green and youthful exuberance, a key
to ambitions, burning like cinders at a breast.
the zest in the air does not pervade the effort.
but propels more itch, each inch further on.
no two minds in changing tides, no time to muse.
nay more, —no shrinking at the face of an
ever fresh strange well. and if it be so ordained,
then going forth, full force, and untired
in pursuit of the head of the rainbow,
indeed, this is a predestined end... and while
fear and conflict murmur in the head, and the
path extends to limitless voids, hallelujah is
a thin line of conveyance between here
and the end of the rainbow. strong faith takes
one there. withstanding barriers gather like clouds
blotting tomorrow's Providence with indecisions.
there've been rainbows arching the path before.
yes, zealots with hard heads have run for the head
chasing evergreen pastures, only to reap
diamantes, and dying sods at the twilight of life!