Chirp and Tell

So one afternoon I sit down before my screen to write a poem. I had the initial lines but I found it difficult to develop it forward. The cursor blinked and I had no idea how to go about it. And when I decided to give my attempts rest, a bird at my window began. Little did I think before the entire piece was on the screen. A continuous string of thoughts woven in no time. I ended up writing something totally different from what I had thought I would write.

A bird sits at my window,

it chirps, it tells,
a story, untold

like the pages flipping by,
winds, the reason
winds, I know not who hold.

The song of its chirp
the scribble on that paper
I know not what it says
or what it means
perhaps some strange note
my senses are pleased.

Oh! End not your melody tone
your music, a script,
a language unknown
I cannot apprehend full,
but I do know,
there is a joy
in not comprehending its beauty.
It’s strange, I know
let its beauty flow.

Oh bird sitting at my window
sing aloud
chirp and tell
tell, your story untold…


Chirp and Tell

Chirp and Tell


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