The Mirrors and the Reflections,
this fresh breeze and the sunlight,
these inanimate realities
and their oxymoronic existence
amazes inner child within me.

I am not a painter,
I am just a man
with a taste for colors.

I delve into them,
till the hues whisper words
that fly like butterflies.

I am not a lepidopterist(butterfly scientist)
I am just a man
with a thirst for writing.

I collect and nurture them,
till they look like a beautiful painting
made out of unseen words.

I am not a poet,
I am just a man,
with a love for beauty.

I just let the beauty flow,
like the never-ending seas
for purposes unknown.