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Poem

It all began one afternoon

The ground was hot and the world seemed bounded
But up the sky the boastful sky bird glided gaily
Enjoying the boundless splendour of the universe
Huh! If only I had wings like that bird!
The bird heard me, swooped towards me, and rose again
Singing and laughing in high-pitched whistle
What a petty display of arrogance, I wondered
Now the sky bird looked beneath with disdain, like we can't fly
Oh yes, we can't fly, but don't we own the world?
What in the intangible air rescues in moments of need?
But she still flapped and danced effortlessly in the air
One day, I thought, we shall see the winner

Now let's see how she survives this,

The loud baleful thunderstorm is roaring
And the angry cloudburst is shelving her suppleness
There again the scathing cold numbing her bones
I laugh as the humid air soak her plumes
And with the ghastly dark night how will she see?

With the restraints settle, expecting to go to her world,
The little creature finds herself in my palms
Bereft of wings and plumes, and happiness
Now between you and I, sky bird, who wins?
Then she chirps and say her last:

"You are not the winner either, human
For what on sky will you have when I'm away?
It's the claws and wings, not the sky, that's my happiness
The claws lift me from this shuttered world
And the wings flap to carry me up
So the wise you could spare my wings and claws
And take the whole of the sky
Or what's the world to me without the two?"

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