The rain has finally come and gone.
      There’s freshness in the air.
      A mist still hovers o’er the trees
      With droplets everywhere.

      Above those trees up in the sky
      Red, orange, yellow, green,
      Blue, indigo, and violet bands
      Of a rainbow can be seen.

      Its arc bends into half a ring
      From one pole to the other
      Encompassing the earth beneath
      And all the life it covers.

      All throughout our history
      We’ve heard at the end is some gold,
      And many riches await us there,
      (At least that’s what we’ve been told.)

      The dreams of men to find the gold
      Have survived for centuries,
      And though no one has found it yet,
      We continue to believe.

      Like Ponce de Leon who’s quest
      Was finding the fountain of youth
      Or explorers who sought cities of gold,
      All wanted their moment of truth.

      So do we all journey to find
      That pot at the rainbow’s end,
      Struggling against all manner of odds,
      We never know where that road bends.

      We all have a goal that we dream about,
      And as our lives start to unfold,
      We grow with each rut we meet on that road
      And learn, finally, the quest is the gold! 

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