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Brooding

Brooding

Ratings:

5.0

(9)
|Views: 247|Likes:
Published by Shyam Adrift
Brooding over my brooding abilities as a single parent!

1Am! Gazing into the starless night
Over this city of high rise, I sit and brood

Doubts cloud my mind
Hazy smog expands skywards
Like an alley cat stretching its back
Its feline shadow shrouding the landscape

Can I make it work?
Brooding over my brooding capabilities
Of caring for my young ones

It is dark
Can’t scan the horizon, yet
If at all there is one!
It is blurred, smudged!
Yet a pattern must emerge!

3 Am! The shrill calls of the Lapwing,
Shatters the silence of the sleeping hour

Warding off nocturnal intruders
From its lowly hearth
Darting, swooping, the brave stupid bird
Throws caution to wind
When it comes to protecting its brood

The Lapwing can flap its wings well enough
Yet it offers itself as bait
to lure predators away from its brood.
Why does it not choose a higher perch
to nurture its young ones?
Instead it guards fiercely
What it endangers by choice.

The lapwing is one pesky bird,
Its cries for help, drew the attention of Lord Krishna
in the legend of Mahabharata.
Blessed by the Lord at Kurukshetra
The brood survived the calamitous war

A giant elephant bell was cast as a spell by the Lord
And while heroes and villains fell
The Lapwing and her brood were protected by the Lord

5Am! The shrill call of the brain fever bird
pierces the darkness.
Its sharp calls ring out like conch shells
Ushering in the dawn and the battles to be won.

Brood parasite, Papihara in folklore
The Brain fever bird is the cuckoo’s distant cousin
In song and brooding habits

Courtship comes easy
When you leave your progeny
To foster care
Or is it a lament that I sense
In the plaintive song
Of the Brain fever bird

6Am! The sun is up!
Warming the earth
Why is it still cold at my hearth?

Time to stop brooding
And learn from the birds
The fledglings are young
There is a nip in the air
Despite the rising sun

Twigs to gather and make a hearth
Provide warmth, shelter and love

Little time for courtship or song
The loneliness can wait, the winter won’t!

Enough brooding, now to work on brooding
A shelter for my young ones
A sojourn for the nomad to perch
Till I spread my wings and Soar
Beyond this limits of manmade horizons

Shyam
Brooding over my brooding abilities as a single parent!

1Am! Gazing into the starless night
Over this city of high rise, I sit and brood

Doubts cloud my mind
Hazy smog expands skywards
Like an alley cat stretching its back
Its feline shadow shrouding the landscape

Can I make it work?
Brooding over my brooding capabilities
Of caring for my young ones

It is dark
Can’t scan the horizon, yet
If at all there is one!
It is blurred, smudged!
Yet a pattern must emerge!

3 Am! The shrill calls of the Lapwing,
Shatters the silence of the sleeping hour

Warding off nocturnal intruders
From its lowly hearth
Darting, swooping, the brave stupid bird
Throws caution to wind
When it comes to protecting its brood

The Lapwing can flap its wings well enough
Yet it offers itself as bait
to lure predators away from its brood.
Why does it not choose a higher perch
to nurture its young ones?
Instead it guards fiercely
What it endangers by choice.

The lapwing is one pesky bird,
Its cries for help, drew the attention of Lord Krishna
in the legend of Mahabharata.
Blessed by the Lord at Kurukshetra
The brood survived the calamitous war

A giant elephant bell was cast as a spell by the Lord
And while heroes and villains fell
The Lapwing and her brood were protected by the Lord

5Am! The shrill call of the brain fever bird
pierces the darkness.
Its sharp calls ring out like conch shells
Ushering in the dawn and the battles to be won.

Brood parasite, Papihara in folklore
The Brain fever bird is the cuckoo’s distant cousin
In song and brooding habits

Courtship comes easy
When you leave your progeny
To foster care
Or is it a lament that I sense
In the plaintive song
Of the Brain fever bird

6Am! The sun is up!
Warming the earth
Why is it still cold at my hearth?

Time to stop brooding
And learn from the birds
The fledglings are young
There is a nip in the air
Despite the rising sun

Twigs to gather and make a hearth
Provide warmth, shelter and love

Little time for courtship or song
The loneliness can wait, the winter won’t!

Enough brooding, now to work on brooding
A shelter for my young ones
A sojourn for the nomad to perch
Till I spread my wings and Soar
Beyond this limits of manmade horizons

Shyam

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Published by: Shyam Adrift on Nov 06, 2010
Copyright:Traditional Copyright: All rights reserved

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11/21/2013

 
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Activity (96)

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Ada Taropa added this note
nice soft feel about it
Inge Meldgaard added this note
Excellent! Your night time musings contain such depth and soul - the analogies with the birds and the references to the mythologies work so well, with the repeated theme of 'brood' woven in beautifully.
Robin Rule added this note
i love the 5AM stanza! it's so powerful! love, robin
Shyam Adrift added this note
The progeny rarely looks back, such are the laws on nature, yet we brood about our brood!
Shyam Adrift added this note
The winter is in & so is my brood! Aspiring to make it work!
Shyam Adrift added this note
Thank you for the rating, Jean
Robin Rule added this note
i have no problem reading either the color or the font. It's quite beautiful, shy...
Global Villain added this note
WOW. Magnificent. The alley cat, the feline shadow shrouding the landcape. The smoke and doubts becoming a living creature who arches its back, an illusion of size to confront danger which confuses reality. Brilliant. The horizon which MUST be there, but blurred, a pattern MUST emerge, very true, very universal. The brooding habits of birds, perhaps the most maternal of images, but you are a

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