Bird's Nest
In the unpretentious backyard
Of my house— not a home,
Bloomed a bird's nest
Concealed concernedly
In the benevolent branches
Of the dear aged tremulous tree.
When I noticed the nest nearly,
House felt like a home dearly,
I noticed the humble hatching
Of the birds—
Life lustrously levitating
Out of a shattering shell
Of an emaciated egg.
How gentle squeaks
Filled the surroundings
Slowly and sincerely,
My heart hissing
Gratitude for great glory.
Now, they are a week old,
Surely, soon, they will fill
Their wings with their
First flight
From my backyard
Amply, they'll be gone long
And I'll still be a basic bard
While they'll be reaching
The racing clouds.
I know not the name,
I know not their kind,
I tried searching,
But I couldn't find
The name of the birds
That are taking shelter
And bedazzling
My rudimentary backyard.
How artistically
Nature wonderfully works—
Blooming and dying,
Escalations and sorrows,
Falling and flying,
Yesterdays and morrows.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment