Joy and Sorrow: A Bird’s Eye View
Oh little birdie!
I would wake up,
To your melodious song,
Of love and beauty.
I often wondered,
Wherefrom you learnt,
To sing like this?
Did you learn it on your mother’s lap?
Or is it God’s gift to you?
The Maroon and Red hues,
Of your patterned wings,
Like coloured fans,
Help you soar high,
And sometimes swoop low.
You have been teaching,
Your young one to fly.
I often hear your instructions to her,
Wafting through my balcony door.
She is growing up to be beautiful just like you.
A week back, I was sitting as usual,
Reading the missive,
In the papers,
Over my morning cuppa,
Lost in my own world of make-believe.
And then there was that heart-rending screech,
Emanating from the blades of the fan,
I looked around in shocked horror,
Only to find the wings of your young one,
Slashed and strewn all over my room.
And then you sang your dirge of sorrow,
Giving a farewell to your little one,
Which broke my heart into tiny pieces.
How I wish that day,
I had not switched on the fan.
I haven’t heard your song of love,
For a while now,
I had almost given up hope,
But this morn you were back again,
Chirpy and sweet with another young one in tow.
That is right, birdie dear,
Life is a never-ending fight,
We may lose today, but we will win again tomorrow.
There is always a second chance,
Be it for a bird like you or a human like me.