Those chalky Tuscan streets,

as your sandals pad between busy feet,

may as well be paved with gold.

The city breathes dusty air, a crowded symphony

ringing laughter, sacred secrets,

chatter of young and aging and old.

A great bell clangs in the center of town

announcing the passage time.

You gut-laugh at the sound,

throwing your head back, eyes-to-sky.

A festival is in procession, banners draping the city walls.

It is discord painted in perfect hues,

wonderous to behold.

You make your way to your favorite fountain,

bold with its Romanesque forms:

the Goddess Nike, chariot-riding,

four horses braced and churning forward

pouring forth curls of water and ethereal foam.

As you gaze into your reflection,

another form in the pool appears:

it is the figure of a smiling man

grinning ear-to-ear

wearing garments of every hue and sheen.

"I knew I'd find you here."

You look up to meet his gaze;

his eyes are crinkled from his smile.

Inside of them, you see yourself:

fragments of color and light--

broken, layered, complex, shifting--

breathtaking. A holy sight.

You ask:

"Have you been waiting here long?"

His smile is soft like starlight,

hisvoice a whisper of delight and love.

"You're just in time for the band.

They're about to play your favorite song."