The Sprightly Crow
The summer day was drawing to a close
The sun had doled out heat in an ample dose.
A silent sigh and an audible hush
were permeating the air like a bride’s blush.
A gentle breeze started to blow
caressing and soothing—infusing a glow.
Wilted life began to revive in the cool
in accordance with nature’s rule.
The single crow perched, on a high roof,
and held itself aloof—
happy without a tether
with the wind ruffling its feather.
Shiny black and free stood the crow,
sprightly and all ready for some show.
Just watching the crow was a treat;
the bird made life seem simple and sweet.
Note: wrote this poem several months ago, as I stood on my home’s terrace with the sea breeze cooling the brow and watched a lustrous crow descend on a rooftop and enjoy the breeze just as I did.
It was one of those instances when you realise you are but part of a whole, and the other creatures are as much a part of the whole as you are.
Have tried to sketch the crow just as I saw it!