Image: Champagne Days. 2015. Private Collection.
In normal times the hope of many is that they will one day win the lottery or come into some unexpected windfall or stumble on that pot at the end of the rainbow which will enable them to live in the lap of luxury. This lockdown has seen so much altruism and selflessness that I wonder if our priorities will be irrevocably changed, so that we continue to value the support of others more than before? A poem which I wrote a few years ago:
The pot at the end of the rainbow is something well hidden from me, It’s probably made of experience that only the wise can see, Locked in the cellar of patience, glazed in the colours of chance, visible only in waking dreams, seen in a sideways glance, search as we may on the steed of hope, over the hills of time, the pot at the end of the rainbow can never be yours or mine, and yet we can take some comfort, that after the rain we see, that magical thing called the rainbow, is there for you and me.