Poem - 2

C o n t e n t s








Cuckoo’s Nest



MANASI  Panda

Michigan, USA

 


The Cuckoo Queen knocked gently

on the weaver bird's door,

“I must learn to weave a nest,

like you do, for sure.”

“Patience is the key,”

the weaver bird said with pride,

“Precision and care are

what help a nest abide.”

Just then, a naughty boy called out

with a loud tune,

The cuckoo got distracted and

left the nest work too soon.

The weaver bird shut its door and

said, “You must go,

Forget the work and

join a musical show!”

Heartbroken, the cuckoo flew to

a brinjal field nearby,

Its last hope now was the

little tailorbird, or else, goodbye!

Measuring feathers and

pulling its tail with a flourish,

The tailorbird said, “Your beak’s

not sharp enough to nourish.

You’ll tear the brinjal leaves before

a stitch is even done,

Learning to weave will only burden

you in the long run.”

With a sullen face, the cuckoo sat

on a mango tree’s branch,

“I’ll never fall into this weaving trap

again by any chance.”

“Why worry about this?”

said a crow to the cuckoo,

“Both of us are born to a

destiny we didn’t choose, it’s true.

In my nest, your chicks will grow,

laughing and playing,

After all, they say an aunt loves more

than a mother, no delaying.”

With the crow’s wisdom,

the cuckoo found peace anew,

Its melody returned, and it

sang with vigor too.

Everyone was enchanted by

its kuhu-kuhu refrain,

And the cuckoo lived free,

far from the nest-building strain.


 

C o n t e n t s