... if I am mad to see the things that I do.
The water flows like champagne,
Bubbling beside and over the trail,
The storm delivered rain and hail,
Water now streams down the lane,
Surging through debris it dances,
Revealing a newly washed golden sky,
On which the reflections of stars fly
And the shadow of a comet prances.
The flood flows through my open mind,
Carrying pictures within pictures,
No borders or strictures
Can confine the thoughts that I find,
Dancing in the dark like dreams,
And words in bubbles rise,
Try on the morning for size,
And create their own light beams.