The Heart of the Storm!

Sometimes . . . 
you are walking along
alone

and you suddenly realize
you don't know where you are
and you look again
and realize that, no,
you know where you are
but

you ask yourself,
"Is it supposed to look this beautiful?" 
This green?
This colorful? all the flowers
and the mossy trees . . .
what is this place
where it rains in misty silver and the
sun shines so golden
burning a hole through the faithless clouds,
and

touches your back with gentle fingers . . .
where suddenly out of the blue spaces
flocks of birds swoop down
to admire their images in
the puddles thickly
layered with golden pollen . . .
and 

the scents are serenely intoxicating
so you stagger through the next down-pour
to the sheltering arms of the nearest tree . . .
and 

you wait, reflective and pensive
as the storm swirls around you
splashing and slashing at your good will
but you persist 
and 

shortly
you have it all again . . .
storm washed tranquility.

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So, this was all true . . .  very strange walk home, extra-ordinarily beautiful . . . the sunshine and warmth . . . the music . . . listening to Jamendo tunes on my mp3 . . . gorgeous colors and scents, etc . . .  then this incredible downpour of hail and cold, cold rain . . . my camera got soaked and so did I . . . and then it got lovely again! - !!??!!