ALSphere Foundation
A fluttering bird perches on the window,
Clasping sprigs in her nib,
To build a nest in the entwined bough,
A cradle in the eaves hollow.
For days, the passerine roosts, placing broken twigs,
One upon the other, both small and big,
Until a home is built for the fledgling to nestle, and where her tired wings relax, a restful.
The blowing wind, or a gathering storm,
Shifts her home,
Crumbling her sweet dream,
Shaken, she fastens her falling hope,
And rebuilds her nest, yet again.
The blazing rays of the sun,
The downpour of the rain,
Or the cold waves, that strike the terrain,
She holds her claws firm,
And clambers on the hem,
Guarding her crippling den.
Till one day, her chicks spread their wings, and fly,
In the vast open sky,
Holding on to the memories, weaved together, in the cosy shelter.
The bird’s eyes glisten with happy tears,
As she watches, her fledgling, laugh and play.
