Then one day it all stopped coming
the poem, the story, the dream
the clouds, everything
as if they never existed for me
And then I heard about that
flightless poem
that lost its wings
in some old story
I also heard
the story of a butterfly
that could never escape
its caterpillar existence
I saw the clouds that
came down
and started walking
on the land
I slowly walked towards her
and untied her wings,
told her she was free
like she had dreamed about
I watched her fly up in the sky
and the clouds follow her
the butterfly flap its wings
and make a rainbow
and the story end abruptly
As the poem went to sleep
I started dreaming…. and
it all started coming again
like nothing had stopped
