Those Birds Poem by desamangalam ramakrishnan

Those black eggs were delivered
by a white cuckoo
in the nest of a red crow.
Those green eggs were delivered
by a red crow
in the nest of an Yellow cuckoo.

All the birds were dreaming
of the offsprings' bloom and chirp.

Then all of a sudden there heard
an esoteric roaring and turbulence.
The white cuckoo sobed:
"All Iost!
Death may not go missing its way"
The red crow said:
"Nothing lost,
Death can't help missing its way".

Meanwhile
a poem devoid of Words
a dream devoid of gun
were dribbling into my heart
as moon-light
from the Yellow cuckoo's silence.


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