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The mother and father bird
Collected twig by twig, to build their nest and built it with as much labor as love.
The mother’s belly grew as did the father’s anxiety and fear; How can we have a baby? he’d ask her.
Sure, we can, she’d say and they both said no more.
There are no more words necessary.
The baby was finally born,
Small and frail with small wings,
And a chirruping voice.
Her parents smiled and thought, that’s our baby girl
The baby bird grew,
And hopped about her within the confines of her nest;
But to her mother’s dismay,
The father was always late to witness this wonder that they'd created.
And one fine morning,
When the mother bird awoke,
He was gone.
At first, she waited for him to come back,
Reproaching herself for whatever harsh words they’d exchanged,
Hoping that he’d throw whatever he had to the past
And come back;
But he never did and she had to move on.
She had a child after all.
Time kept on moving, though,
And the baby bird grew.
‘Where’s your father?’ they’d ask the shy baby bird;
That is what she would repeat to her mother,
And every time her moth relied with a grave face,
“Away; your father’s away, baby bird.”
Soon they knew,
That the baby bird was from a broken nest,
The nest where there was only a mother but no father.
And pity replaced friendship.
The baby bird would spread her wings,
And test the winds,
But scared that she was, looked back at her mother.
“What if I cannot find my way back?”
But the mother bird urged her on,
And so the bird spread her wings and flew away.