I saw a tiny little home,

entangled, cozy bed of straws,

up above, hidden behind those olive leaves;


made with care, the couple took turns,

 protecting the future inside those eggshells, 

up above, their world, behind those olive leaves;


shades of brown amidst black patches,

the  beautiful little sparrow  chirping, making sweets noises,

up above, dancing in joy, behind those olive leaves;


beside the window, I would see it all with smiles,

witnessing the bird's  quick movements,

up above, securing their hopes, behind those olive leaves;


and on one day, there's a loud noise as everything changes,

the cacophony, the anxiety palpable as the gigantic tree now falls,

the birds cry, the broken eggs with the yellow yoke, behind those olive leaves;


time passed & I grew up with lesser trees,

little sparrows are now missing, posing unanswered questions, 

why is our home more important than theirs's, that existed behind those olive leaves?

Love,

Chinmayee

This poem is written for #BlogchatterBlogHop