One day, I was sitting on the stairs

That pave the way from our home towards the garden

The afternoon was pleasant

As the weather was cool

After a small period of summer rain.

I was talking to my mom

Meanwhile, she wanted to show me something

I went with her to the garden

Pointing to the mini Tagar tree,

She showed me a small nest.

At first, I couldn’t see anything

All I could see was a small tree

That soothed my eyes with the rain-bathed leaves

But when Maa took me closer to the nest,

Finally, I could discover that tiny abode

Amidst the green.

It was after many years that I saw a nest from close,

I so loved it

I was in awe of the little birdie

that keeps me visiting every morning

And sing me the song of liberty

I didn’t know that the nest belonged to it

Until Baba witnessed the weaving

Of the nest, on the other day.

I gazed at the small nest

And wondered how the bird knew to build her home

with such delicate care

There were small twigs

And some dried leaves

Inside the nest

I kept looking at that little marvel

As I wanted to know

How to build a home

with the things that make it worth living.

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(This post is part of the series ‘Solace in the Mundaneness’ where I try to tell stories of the everyday things that capture a special place in my heart and they make me feel privileged to live a simple and ordinary life with contentment and peace. This post is also part of Blogchatter A to Z.)