When I was a little boy, mother said that Odomankoma made a rainbow <br />A band of beauty that gladdened Noah and his kin <br />She brought smiles with her and a promise of peace to show <br />Her treasures, a dove and an olive shoot to grace her chin <br />At the end of Noah’s rainbow was a pot of gold; <br />The treasure of God’s promises of which we are told <br /> <br />Now that I am a man, I see in every rainbow a profound truth; <br />A pot of gold a promise makes <br />To forever be present at the end of Odomankoma’s rainbow <br />When my heart with despair and disappointment aches <br />Fondly do I remember the pledge of peace <br />A pot pottered to make my sorrow cease <br /> <br />I am weak and wrinkles a tale of experience they tell on my cheek <br />It is now that I have understood the wise and proverbial pot of gold! <br />Now my body is a rigid teak and my life a spent wick <br />And beckoning ever so loudly is my soul, for it seeks now the great promise <br />Odomankoma assures a pot of gold at the end of my rainbow <br />A beaker of an eternal promise – the hope of our Maranatha<br /><br />Rafael Yaw Kumi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pot-of-gold-10/
