photograph (c) Arti Honrao
a little bird sitting on my window-pane
watches me as I read and write
it watches me as I do my chores
and as I go to bed;
it flutters its little wings -
ready to take off.
it stares at me and wills me to follow
I see a promise in its eyes
promise of a faraway land
where things are the way they should be
where there is no pain, no sorrow.
I close my eyes then -
close my mind to the possibility
I can still hear the flutter of its wings
but I ignore it -
because I know;
even though I follow it to the faraway land -
it is here that I would wake up tomorrow.
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