A little bird
In a bold cap of golden feathers
Alights upon the blossomed twig
With each beat of its wings
Forms a part of a sonnet to the air
In-flight it gives its colours to the sky
Yet leaves it as a fresh canvas
Every part of the onward moment
A bonny bright soul, a jocund spirit
In keeping with the leaves that dance all around it
It sings to the soul of any blessed to hear
by Susmita Mukherjee
