This Post Is only about rush and madness!!

There is a rush, don't ask me how and why!
It is there, where I am
and books,
words,
mountains,
visible vast blue or purple or yellow or colorless sky,
broad and narrow streets of a faraway land,
breeze from the sea,
touch of first drop of shower,
a cliff near the sunset,
green leaves or withered,
lightening and wind simultaneous,
plum tomatoes and red peaches,
clean and tangled long roads,
tall trees, an uphill hut,
a pond full of birdies,
empty nests,
shafts of log in the barn,
an undone tree house,
a brown and woody garland,
a temple's peak,
a vulture's beak,
 tides drowning the sand,
rocks climbing the hand,
those eyes looking into me and reflecting back something,
red steady light on the tracks of a train in the night,
a dusty coat,
a fir glove,
fire near the face and gown sewed with lace,
curtains made of satin,
a stranger speaking Latin,
just a night rush or a rush night,
blowing whistle in heat of the stadium,
flowing river in cup like formation,
all that eyes see and relate to,
there is a rush, not just human,
I am much more.
I am mad.