Rainbows

They said, 'Show us a rainbow'

And exactly, it was what he did

Though what is often forgotten so

That every bent prism seen above

Did surface from somewhere below

Each harvest reaped from a storm

They forget, nor did they even ask

What storms he rode alone inside

A badly colored boat, no less wind

And what, does color really matter

But everything, the essence of tides

His pale skiff, A symbol of breaking

The many have sapped his strength

That for carrying on, even further still

Wrestling, not one contained to mats

Only plainly before the world, A view

Into the deepest, darkest shadows

The heart, wildly forging against night

Eyes of hurricanes bring it to no silence

If an artist, he paints upon a canvas so

A picture of utter destruction, hell storms

There in the corner, amongst the black

Amidst all the brokenness, filled with red

Beating away, Until the easel does fall

Would it be, The answer to all earthly riddles

Triumphant, When all else comes undone

And each a key, with only one perfect fit

Don’t suppose I need to tell you now

The frequency, Those of forced corners bent

Some of which, They often stick softly

Or at least until the wind blows once more

Resilience, Amidst the Eye, Among foes

That whatever storm he is walking through

He, and God alone, know the reason why

People, They always look for rainbows

No one ever remembers, nor do they see

The brightest colors, birthed in agony

 And still, he promises a perfect rainbow

To whomever, she who walks with him

A courtship of hands through storms