The Birds

The birds seem to have gathered innocuously

One called the other, then in unison, then everyone responded

They know how to create a rhythm

Their wings have brought them here for a purpose

Winds must have written some messages on them

As scripts, they reveal the messages

Their stare, sometimes unnerving

They may be speculating over my curious expressions

Probably, peering through my subliminal thoughts

My spirit looks for the symbolism, but their spirit is sure

Do I need a transformation?

After their visit and constant prodding in birds’ language

Mystery, or, pure reason, I can at least feed them

Surrounding me for a reason by sacrificing their flight

~Amitav