THE STORY OF A POOR BIRD

Once I was on a journey long
When I heard a cry of pang
The sun was dying behind the hills
And the sands seemed red frilled dapples
I was alone and in a run for victuals.
Yet I waited for a while.

It was a bird’s cry so sharp and fret
Like a clarinet blown with might
None had heard such a voice so sad
Making hearts dwell in a panic drift.

I heard the cry not once, but first
Failed to find the source that made
A church was at a small room ahead
And the priest was there in the pulpitry suit
To all my surprise, the cry again turned out
And now it was from the Altar so close
A rare bird was in a golden cage
Blood soaked, with wings plucked out
The cage was bolted with a massive lock
The size of that was more than we expect
There was none to break that cage
Nor had the strength to let her free.

The hopeless bird cried again in distress
Shaking the whole world strongly for a while
All constricted cages were crushed and thrown
Then what! The poor bird with all deprived went
Swiftly up to the Real Heaven that they deserve.



20-04-2008 Ramesh.P
Email: Ramesh_pullelil@ yahoo.co.in