Thursday, 4 March 2010

The bird song

The main door was left open, the one made of wood

The netted one that opened to the outside remained closed.

There she stood, blocking ones way

waiting one way or the other

And here I was, hoping

that she stays, but not too long.

She stood there all day

her body as if nearly paralyzed

I would steal a glance once in a while

But with the hope

that i show no compassion.

I left as per my usual routine

Still not bothering myself with her thoughts

And I came back

to find her still

sitting at the doorstep!

I stared at her for a long time

persuading her to make way

so that i could get in

She seemed adamant

She budged no muscle,

made no movement.

Until a friend arrived

and took her in his arms

The miracle that followed was hard to believe.

She responded to his tender affection

and moved every way to portray the same

It was then that i took notice

of her and her miseries.

Her eyes were hidden

by puffs of white puss

Her head was shaved off her fur,

exposed in the worst possible manner.

I felt no pity but love

and hope for a speedy recovery.

And that she did exhibit

when she gulped in sparse food and water

And jump she did, on the stairs

To partake the joy of convalescence

with a stranger, unseen and unheard...