The Nightingale Sang Too Early Poem by dhruna rao

a nightingale sang too early.
it thought the shiny blanket of snow,
to be the petals of jasmine.
the sound coming through the caves,
when the cool wind blows through,
sonded like the horn,
marking the begining of the spring.
forget did the nightingale,
about the sorrows of winter.
the tears that matter in the shiny eyes of hers.
she forget the grief of staying alone and still.
the memories of flocking together,
made her heart beat a few times more,
and pump blood a few drops more.

she sang, she flew inspite of all the dew,
even though she could not fly.
even thought no one stood by.
moments passed, mountains covered.
but the exhaust and the pain of the chill and thoughts,
dried the oil in her heart.
and she dropped down with pain.
she realized the soundness of the word 'patience'.
she realized that she should wait,
for the time which is right.
for us to come out of dark and return to light.