Care’s Immortal Power

I espy a fledgling with his mother—

camouflaged in the umbrageous tree—

bearing infant’s woe and mother’s anxiety.

His body bruised, eyes flitting helter-skelter;

quaking in his feet and shaky like a leaf,

perhaps pushed by shock or wanton wind;

grey days all set to harden,

as his heart tends to retreat.

A wearied mind needs a breather,

so does his heart with feathers evident of fatigue.

Finds comfort when the sun does peer,

days swept with clean air and bright renew,

the nights’ lullabies add to his respite,

as no eyes pry or wish any harm indeed.

A few days go by uttering symphony—

natural troubadours—

masterpieces of enchanters, feathered joy

nested in the midst of whispering leaves,

the once-trembling bird gaining strength and energy.

The mother only leaves for a while

in search of food, perhaps far and wide.

Feeds him with attention, auscultates his breath sounds—

a mother’s feel—only she can comprehend.

His wings sing of ease and cheer

when the pain subsides, with rest and more rest.

One day the mother leaves and doesn’t return.

When she arrives the next morning, the little soul

jumps on his mother, raising wings in ecstasy—

signs of the silent delight of the vagrant being.

A day or two more when the

quiet steeps of cloudland seem to cease.

Back to their usual routines,   

they fly away robust and free.

Sreelekha Chatterjee is a poet from New Delhi, India. Her poems have recently appeared in Madras Courier, Setu, Verse-Virtual, Porch Literary Magazine, The Wise Owl, and in the anthologies—Light & Dark (Bitterleaf Books, UK), Whose Spirits Touch (Orenaug Mountain Publishing, USA), and Christmas-Winter Anthology Volume 4 (Black Bough Poetry, Wales, UK).