Birds in Their Blues
The crow, a prophet in the pines,
Caws a lament, a mournful chime.
Is it winter's grip he fears,
Or a world grown cold, with unseen tears?
The curlew pipes a mournful song,
Across the marsh, where reeds are long.
A lonely call, a haunting plea,
For solace lost, across the sea.
The eagle screams, a piercing cry,
A king of clouds, with a mournful eye.
Does he see empires rise and fall,
And mourn the dreams that fade for all?
The hummingbird, a jewel in flight,
Humming whispers, lost to sight.
A frenetic dance, a blur of wings,
Does hidden sorrow pierce such things?
The linnet warbles, sweet and clear,
A melody that banishes fear.
But does it mask a heart's despair,
A hidden burden, hard to bear?
The magpie chatters, secrets kept,
In magpie whispers, slyly swept.
Does he know of joy or hidden pain,
In the stories whispered through the rain?
The owl, wise eyes that pierce the night,
Hoots a lullaby, bathed in soft light.
Is it solace offered to the soul,
Or a hunter's call, to take control?
But wait! A flash of emerald bright,
The peacock struts, a dazzling sight.
Though troubles may on others fall,
He seems to hold his head up tall.
Perhaps within their songs, we find,
A mirror to the human mind.
For joy and sorrow, hand in hand,
Are woven in this feathered land.
So let us listen to their call,
And learn from creatures, great and small.
For in their blues, we find our own,
And hearts that sing, though not alone.
Copyright ©
Dr. Padmashree R P
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