Chasing Rainbows

Allow me to paint you a picture.
Imagine yourself walking though a courtyard in the gentle mist. This soft, soothing rain puts no snap in your step, but intead stalls your stride. Your blood slows to a calming pace and your philosophic mind escapes to a nostalgic enclave. Your eyes become wider, equipped to receive all visual delicaces surrounding you. And as those eyes peer northward, they observe one of the world's greatest mysteries.

From whence the time we could comprehend it, Man's adoration of rainbows has allowed these polychromatic mysteries turn to fairytale. "Pot of Gold!" they'd tell us, "That's what you'll find." And since then we've found ourselves inexplicably drawn to its secrets. We fight the urge to drop all that we do, redirect our course; just to spend a few moments in its subtle light.

And yet, disregarding the disance, I find myself with an adventurer's heart, longing to venture forward toward my own personal, existential rainbow. I constantly find the urge to drop all I do, take time away from my life, just to have her in my arms, like a secret rendezvous. Alas, I am here and She is there, and the everlasting sting of watching others so carelessly caressing their significant others only does so to further the distance between us, and lengthen the time before our next encounter. But I'd rather be chasing rainbows than be rushing through the mist.