image by crilleb50
The little birdie perched besides me
chirping away in glee
Birdie birdie , where art thou from?
far away is my home in Astom.
where the river runs from the mountains
thru the vales and meandering to the plains.
When it snows and no vegetation sprout
our flock navigates South, without a doubt.
In search of grass and chirping insect.
clear water and butterflies, nectar collect.
Seasons shift , greens change their garb
frogs hibernate , rose stems reduce the barb.
But the hands of the grandpa clock
circumambulate tick tock tock tock
from sunrise to sunset
take a pause to celebrate a fest.
one after another , chasing each goal,
like the two swordsmen without soul
Break free from the circular bondage.
time waits for none, the adage
Can I emancipate myself?
or a slave to the timepiece on the shelf?
Birds , trees , animals follow the Nature and reset their internal clock as per the changing seasons. But man is a strange animal who is dictated and a slave to the clock. He chases his ambitions and aspirations without any end just as the two hands of the clock.
For : magpietales