Poet And Poetry

The poet was working on a new poem. 

In it, 

There was the sky 

The rain 

The flowers 

The butterflies 

The clouds 

And many others. 

To the rain that breaks down 

Every now and then 

The poet showed the seamless firmament 

At which the rain started crooning a sweet song 

In an enrapturing voice. 

The poet relayed the drizzling song of the rain 

To the despondent flowers; 

The flowers started swaying gaily. The poet borrowed colors from the flowers 

And sprinkled them all over a butterfly; 

The butterfly started fluttering all around 

In its spry flight.

The poet filled the clouds 

With the tantalizing flutter of the butterflies; 

The clouds set out on a free flight 

The poet hung the dappled clouds 

Down the roof of the sky; 

The sky looked spectacular 

This way the poet joined 

The sky and the rain 

The rain and flowers 

The flowers and the butterfly 

The butterfly and the clouds 

And the clouds and the sky, in the same way 

The poet 

Permeated love among many.