Futile the efforts,
chasing the rainbow,
always eluding,
always outside your grasp,
the colours that be
fading away,
never to be touched,
the pot of gold still elusive.
Then, as you flounder,
disappointment clouding over,
you realize
you are the rainbow,
shining with all the
vibrant colours,
the elusive pot of gold
is within you,
not yet unearthed,
The colours that be
fill your soul
to make you whole.
-
Author:
Jay (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 1st, 2021 01:05
- Comment from author about the poem: We all are searching for the perfect life and happiness, not realising that we are the ones who create the perfect life and we are the ones responsible for our happiness. When I was young I remember reading a legend that says , the fairies keep a pot of gold under the rainbow.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 98
Offline)
Comments3
Yep, I am my own very rainbow just as you describe so well. Happy to be wherever I find me.
Chasing an elusive fantasy?
“The journey not the arrival matters.” – Mostly attributed to T.S. Eliot, seems pretty appropriate here.
You have made that plain in a very appealing little work Jay.
Lovely words 🙂🙂
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