They call it 'otherworldly'--

the nectar-colored sky

behind the blackened front

of the approaching summer storm...

the sunlight and the rain that come at once,

dripping gold...

the sighing of the wind among

the youngest of the trees...

the stirring of the lake

beneath the water lilies...

'Otherworldly'.

I laugh at them--

at the narrow minds

that speak of other worlds but cannot grasp

the wonders of their own,

who cannot fathom sun and rain at once...

or a nectar-colored sky.