A Perfect Madness

Quiet.

Sandy scatters about us.

And a lucid sky speaks to longing unknown.

Nowhere but here, and yet you don’t understand.

And your heart is hidden or nearly impossible.

My sanity a mess of beauty.

My sanity clear as a sunny day.

And what is this madness?

Will a blissful token of heaven find its bloom?

All I can do is stand in the rain and inhale the ozonic misty catharsis.

To let it go among the wisps.