Spare just a moment for the bird
Who flew from bleak winter of her habitat,
In search of warmth, food wet lands
And green fields, instead only found silt.
Spare just a moment for the bird
Who uncertainly hovers in the sky,
A grey cloud drifting by, seemed to ask why
Alone, where is your flock and why do you cry.
Spare just a moment for the bird
Who oh, so despondently alights?
Looking askance, for a sanctuary,
Perplexed, why barely a marsh, rest concrete.
Spare just a moment for the bird,
Who feels morose as it sits on an electric pole
Wondering whatever happened to Neem and Babool
Which spread out arms to welcome for rest and to nest?
Spare just a moment for the bird
Who adapts to urban life;
And builds a nest on a clothesline
Finds it gone, heartbroken, mourns alone.
Spare a moment for the bird,
Whose sweet song gets drowned in the noise,
It flutters in a state, can’t find a mate
And feels oh, so very desolate.
Spare just a moment for the bird
Who misses her good old friends
Dainty Golden Oriole, Kingfisher and Egrets,
And wonders how come only vultures lie in wait…
