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!