Early dawn.
I hear the singing birds,
gliding, soaring, weaving
through the blue expanse.
And I wonder,
if they can
judge the kilometers they have flown?
Do they know the places like us?
Like Mandi. Hisar. Ludhiana!
Do they see the boundaries we have drawn on maps?
The directions, the longitudes, the latitudes,
do they know about them?
Or is it just a big brown earth for them?
Those primal beings,
are they on a flight of purpose,
or is it just an aimless trifle?
Mesmerizing. Breathtaking. Uplifting. Enlightening.
Small birds. Impressive flights.
Mighty contemplations.
I hear the singing birds,
gliding, soaring, weaving
through the blue expanse.
And I wonder,
if they can
judge the kilometers they have flown?
Do they know the places like us?
Like Mandi. Hisar. Ludhiana!
Do they see the boundaries we have drawn on maps?
The directions, the longitudes, the latitudes,
do they know about them?
Or is it just a big brown earth for them?
Those primal beings,
are they on a flight of purpose,
or is it just an aimless trifle?
Mesmerizing. Breathtaking. Uplifting. Enlightening.
Small birds. Impressive flights.
Mighty contemplations.
Linking with Sammi Cox Weekend Writing Prompt #115 Judge
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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.