An evocative poem by Raja, wherein a mother crow cares for her feathered offspring, both her own and a cuckoo’s, in the crow’s nest and busy wings.
Five o ‘clock in the morning, a crow’s nest Flutter of busy wings, in her Sunday best She swings into action, mouths to feed For worms and beetles, she looked in the weed This is a special day, for they will fly Her’s and the cuckoo’s too; this one is a bit shy She knew, to begin with, one was not her’s But what the heck and who really cares? So, she went about and gave them love As the hen fosters her child, or the dove And brought them up as it should have been They all took the warmth of her feather and her skin And years later, homeward bound in haste A cuckoo flew over to a crow’s loving nest!
Illustration by the poet.
Both the artwork and written lines compliment each other. Sensitive with the ability to make mundane things different with a different truth.