Nestlings

Sangha-lings?

One fine day,
the conditions were ripe
and
the eggs were ready.
Tiny hatchlings appeared in the nest!

Sacs of pink flesh
and
a conspicuous beak each……
Silently gaping
in blind trust

Mother o my mumma!
Would you know
when to come
with food,
how to pass it along?

Featherless, we sit…
We squirm
in our nests.
We were born blind
to the space
that you fly in
harmony with.

We snuggle….
taking cues from
each other ….

Who knew
when to open the mouth
and let
the first audible call out…
the first ray of light in…

We didn’t ask
Couldn’t ask…
Did you hear us?

In the nest,
we just jostled…
and wrestled…
Yelping
for your attention,
and
seeds and greens
that came.
Kept coming!

Our eyes are now opening
Wings are growing….
Unaware we remain
of our true potential
to fly effortlessly

O mai…..Universe!
Unconsciously fluttering
as we are…
Can we ask….
Will you hold us
when we try and fall?
can we dream about
soaring in the space..
delighting in the flight?

Meanwhile
Pecking, twittering
and hugging
among all nestlings
is all there is!