They are four in number, the one
Who had attempted to fly, was found hiding in the shoe,
I gently picked him up and put him in his nest.
The mother sparrow, had been spending nights, sitting
On the door of nest, guarding, may be from a cat, whose meow
The sparrowts would hear, and scream a little, to be hushed into silence
Her chest up, white in shade, looking keenly, observing any movement
Though, fan the fate, with its sharp blades moved
Her wings would save her from flying very close, past it.
She defied, all fears, optimism, that fears entrap us,
Fears imaginary and self created, without any faith.
Early in the morning, the sparrowits wake up, making noise,
The mother sparrow, without doing her breakfast, would go to look,
For something to eat, a bun, an egg, omelets, or fried, in her beak
Denying herself, a meal, she would bring something caught from the nearby
Jungle, and then put it in the mouths of the sparrowits.
They would fight, she divide the bun, an insect, an ant, like trout or salmon
Amongst them. The day’s activity is flying, searching food and feeding children.
The mother sparrow fed the sparrowits alone. I wondered where the papa sparrow was.
He probably was enjoying, living in leaves, on some tree branches.
For the last two days, the mama sparrow did not come at night,
I saw her once before evening for the dinner, and feeding sparrowits.
Today in the morning I saw, both mama sparrow and papa sparrow, sitting on the window aisle.
Papa sparrow was a smart guy, having something in the beak, for the sparrowts.
Now they both had been visiting their nest. May be papa sparrow had gone somewhere
And was now back. They were flying together, coming and going at the same time.
They both have completed their mission, raising a happy family. They are not two, but six in number.
They now enjoy themselves, beating all fears, especially fan the fate,
Nothing happened, they had a will and wits to survive, and live.
They might be planning another family.
In the early morning I hear them both chatter and sing songs of happiness.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Saprrowits I by Sadiqullah Khan )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
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