Joakim Bergen

Rain and Butterfly

Mute crystalline sky

Weeps bejeweled crystals,

Which fall in silence;

Consecrate the earth, you

Tears of the Divine,

Fall upon the meek and

Powerful, upon king

And serf; dewy respite

From the scalding Sun’s

Torch, water the living,

The thistle gilded,

The vine-ridden stones,

But encumber not

The butterfly’s splendid

Wings, whose color

Still enchants; a living,

Land-bound rainbow,

Whose funeral dance

Wakes the soul

And stills the mind;

And so the butterfly

Dances, doesn’t mind

The rain from the

Crystalline sky.