Somewhere inside of every dream is a rainbow, not the sort of rainbow you get when the sun hits the rain, but one where a thousand lonely tear drops hit the bright rays of hope, and create a kaleidascope of uncertainty.
Sometime, maybe in the past, or the future, when I was filled with such doubts, I felt the rainbow stir inside of me, a million beautiful colors, touching ever corner of my body, tingling me with energy, and anticipation, and I closed my eyes and floated on the moment, soaring over giant redwoods, like a magnificent eagle, wild, untamed, and free, looking down upon the world, seeing everything, but unshackled of it's problems.
After many hours of flying, that took but the blinking of an eye, I settled on a raft in the ocean, a small wooden raft, that had floated upon the seas for all eternity, that had been floating there before you, and I, and forever were even dreamt of, and I lay there, still in the morning sun, with the gentle surf lapping just inches from my face and the great whale surfaced, and I looked into it's eye, and for a moment we were one, and I could see tomorrow.
I could have drifted forever, but the rainbow began to fade, and the currents of it's vanishing dragged me back to reality, and the dark damp corner of my room.
