The water is still for now
As the burner slowly heats up
Small bubbles form on the bottom
Eager to grow and run
They'll keep building up
And stir the stillness out of the water
Steam creeps up around the lid
Coming out in sighs
Until the burner glows red
And the water boils restlessly
And the steam leaves the spout
Singing a song for the
Perfect cup of tea
This whole poem is actually one big metaphor.