The Double Rainbow
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Across the sky they stretch in colors blue to red
a brilliant double archway arcing high above my head
touching down on the horizon just out of sight of men
with a double pot of gold awaiting at their fabled ends.
Such a sign the ancient scriptures gloriously foretold
marks the place in temporal space where tomorrow forks the road
springing from my spinning chair in quart a blinking sec
with a firestorm in my belly brewing I sprinted superson-nic.
Blazing cross of field and fjord I chased those rainbow ends
with speed as my amigo, Underlay Areeba! the oath spoken
still those fabled double gold pots kept retreating from my grasp
there seemed no way to bridge the distance as I passed another Mach.
Rolling thunder from the sonic boom rumbled through the sky
while from the smoking ring of cloud emerged a falcon on the fly
soaring up above the roads and rivers flashing by below
a streaking gray-brown ballistic jet-streaming the air flow.
Spinning and spearing, tearing through time, accelerating into a dive
feathers fizzling with arched wings sizzling I closed in on the prize
but just as the pots were within grasp my plumes began to spark
before bursting into flash fire flames like gold-fever in my heart
Crawling from the blackened crater of my own reckless creation
dusted off and bruises rubbed, I started on the long trek back home
arrived by dusk next day, found my neighbor on display
with the glittering pots of gold
yesterday he'd marked the spot, where the rainbow ends stopped
and collected when tomorrow unrolled.
Like the grasses showing tender faces to each other, thus should we do, for this was the wish of the Grandfathers of the World.