Why The Cuckoo Calls? Poem by lalitha iyer

It calls
Cooes I recall
when I was a child
it was very mild
as my teens grew
I leaned against its flow
why the Cuckoo calls
my son asks,
as I peep from window falls

Why the heart breaks
when the decibels seek
with earnest desire to find
some mate of similar bind
the poor bird
striving blind
as if it plunges the knife
into the unanswering wife

the trail of the long tune
missiling from the wretched groom
when the winter nights close up
and air begins to dry up
emotionally parched thoughts sprout out
the spongy hearts spiky mouthed
aches begin to find a mate

wherever you are
whoever you be
when the Cuckoo calls
it bakes the very walls
of sleeping palls
when it cooes
it pours out woes
of yours and mine
who is without thine..........

the call is clear
truth and honest
unlike human lust
the bird needles the breast
of every lovelorn bust
tearing apart the freezing apathy
of empty world without sympathy
it cooes and cooes till the mate appears
inducing form into the empty airs
transforming the tangential branch
into a haven of multiple switch..........