The lament
Yesterday, I came across a pretty sight,
A mother bird, followed by her young one, running in delight,
A delightful pair they made,
As they scampered , looking for worms, in the shade,
Again when I passed the same way,
What a different story it was today,
The mother ran dazed circles in the hot sun,
Around the lifeless copse of the little one,
O' what a cruel twist of fate, I thought,
Seeing the little body in the parking lot,
Did it fall prey to the talons of a predator?
Or was it run over by a car parked in thoughtless ardor?
My heart ached and did rend,
Watching the mothers' silent torment,
Why does nature sometimes demand the blood of the innocent,
Seemed to be her dazed lament.
--shubha
Yesterday, I came across a pretty sight,
A mother bird, followed by her young one, running in delight,
A delightful pair they made,
As they scampered , looking for worms, in the shade,
Again when I passed the same way,
What a different story it was today,
The mother ran dazed circles in the hot sun,
Around the lifeless copse of the little one,
O' what a cruel twist of fate, I thought,
Seeing the little body in the parking lot,
Did it fall prey to the talons of a predator?
Or was it run over by a car parked in thoughtless ardor?
My heart ached and did rend,
Watching the mothers' silent torment,
Why does nature sometimes demand the blood of the innocent,
Seemed to be her dazed lament.
--shubha
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