Pot of Gold

Rainbows:
When I see one floating, I always pursue
Its significance.
Thru-out my chasing days,
I've been cultured of society's masks:
I've seen the heartlands' split down the center
Of extremity's ethics
& have since been dedicated to the homework:
Memorizing the spectrum's codes:
Rainbows, however, can be sneaky...
When you sacrifice
The need for the immediate appearance
Of poetry, what is granted is an exotic labyrinth.
& tumbling sideways I have been
Quite recklessly this time.
The way it was raining for months & months...
The way it took me to finally look up at the sky,
Finally realize,
The plummet f/ this cloud's podium was all
For the beauty of such homesick words that you
Paint like charcoal on the wings of
Horses & send them, nautical, thru the fiery waters
Of devotion:
Love. Gardens. The laughter of children...
How angelic, the topography of such a miracle!
Have I awoken?
Have I saved myself thru your personal mythology?
Have I spoken on a stage & shone like a sage
That you might too, experience inspiration & birth
An enlightened sun?!
One thing. One thing, still a puzzle:
The way Morpheus rang down thru the aftermath
& like a woven dream, sang to me:
"Rainbows never end, you know... you never reach
The pot of gold... you always reach the same distance,
You can never out-run it..."