The Sparrow

By Punyanjali Bhardwaj

https://youtu.be/WfeoGtRAt1g

Brilliance in the evening chirped

This sparrow sat on my lap

I didn't know what to do or expect

Except for the warmth it craft

I didn't know why came to me

That sparrow with the browning hue

But perched it did on my bare cold lap

And a beautiful warmth there grew

It grew me restless the questions and doubts

For no sparrow, I had before seen

And this one came all warm and fuzzy

And sat without any different claim

It came to me then what if I

I'm not the branch it thinks,

Or maybe a sheltering rock that it'd flown to book

I thought hard for days and months

And I thought every which way

It showed signs of liking my touch

But I still wouldn't with surety say

Then I tried to answer these questions

By one and two and many ways

I tried to see if it would fly

Fly from me far away

A caress on the head and it didn't budge

But a little shoo made it flutter

It didn't take a second’s pause

With wings opened vast it was gone

I sat there feeling numb

For some reason, I had expected it to stay

I had thought it came to me by its free will

And would never run away

Now there were no questions that haunted the past

But new ones came to life

I started wondering if it was my blind eyes

That couldn't see its plight

If it was with me cause it wanted to

Not on some branch or rock

But what did it matter now

For it didn't stay, to stop

My questions from blindsiding me

Or the thoughts that continue to prop

All I know is that little bird

I had thought, away it'd never hop

Now those memories haunt me too

For they remind me of what I had

Not much I can do or say

For it was a bird always free and distressed

I loved it the moment it landed

On my bare and cold lap

But for now, I've got nothing at hand

Just the thought what if again it lands

On days, at nights, in colds and scorches

I sit in the exact same spot

For what if it came looking for me

And thought I'd sat up and walked

For nobody knows what my birdie wanted

I sit here empty and still

Searching are my eyes in the sky

Looking for its fuzzy wings.

By Punyanjali Bhardwaj