Today parrots choose palm fronds.
Tightrope walking on narrow edges
or resting in expert yoga poses,
Then a sudden squawk
and off they rise.
Two days earlier sunbirds dance
Hovering near bael flowers,
or within its branches.
Their giggles mark
the tidbit trails
of journeys made
and yet to take.
The bulbuls in another city
Play musical chairs daily,
From telephone wires to dish TVs,
tree tops to window edges.
Sometimes they perch
on hokey spots
confusing each other
till the music stops.
The oriole glows
like a dash of sun,
But no beam moves
like its solid self.
You could miss him
but you'd rather not,
And that tree's marked
for your forever scan.
The black kite runs no experiments!
He keeps his place
among the coconuts.
You're disdainful; he's so common
But when he swoops and cries
You back off and reckon his size.
Why isn't this a thing
On that day, on this tree!
True markers of time
Instead of cars in traffic
Or project deadlines.
The world moves fast
Without a care,
Often cruelly.
But never the birds,
Never in their favourite trees!
Gorgeous burst of colour and flutter 💛