Homing Bird Poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Homing Bird
I have been to verdant hills
watch moonrise on sea at gloam
nothing compares to what it feels
when I am back to my home.
Have trekked faraway mountain pass
caravaned on rolling desert
gone to icy heights where grows no grass
coming home I found my heart.
When travel bug bites my feet
eyes beg for the unseen shore
I wander far but soon retreat
beckons me sweet home's door.
I roam the unknown in wanderlust
weary of the cramped furlong
but end of day in twilight dust
feel the home is where I belong.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/19/2024 12:33:05 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Yes, home is our haven where we feel most comfortable.... After each trip and each wandering, when we are back home, it is such a relief and joy.... Like birds that return to their nests after a day's flight, a homely person longs for his home. Unfortunately many houses no more have that warmth that people prefer to flee from its roof... A great write!