As I look through this
windows,
I hear the sweet song of birdies,
Just a stone's throw away, singing
in a language common to them,
The song I hear at this
windows
is a song over a different waves,
Where singers aren't seen alive unlike
the birdies which are chirping
among flowers, leaves and trees and
sometimes, I can hear then quarrelling,
Though I might close my eyes,
I can feel their presence nearby,
Singing gaily at their own freedom
But at this
windows, my hands
control everything.......
*
Written at the time when birds just woke up and the sun slowly rising from its hiding place.
A very good start of another beautiful Sunday for me. The birds are still singing.
Wishing readers of this blog a fabulous Sunday!
balqis
Oct 23 '11
Image : naturewallpapers.us