God wanted to read poems,
So he created the angels.
They went about the heavens
Writing poems ; good poems.
But they only wrote odes to God
Who got bored in a million years.
Then God wrote a poem himself,
And gave it life, and called it human.
Then he scattered the verses all over,
Across the time, all around the world.
With no punctuations to guide them,
The words got lost and so did the poem.
Each word unaware of its importance,
No word accepting the other's holiness.
To read the poem, words must come together,
Aren't we the most beautiful poem when united?
We are but words of the divine poem,
Though different, we give meaning to each other.


© TRQ
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