The Nest Poem by MOLOY BHATTACHARYA

Like a balloon
It hangs in the air
From the fragile tip
Of the coconut tree
Blown by mighty wind
Scorched in the fiery sun
It survives to stay.
We bother not to wait
And watch for sometime
The majestic work of art,
Temporal creative beauty
She enriches collecting
A green grass, a dry straw
Silently with hard labour
To build a thatchy dwelling
For the ones she loves.
She is far above us
Know not what is leisure
Here we live a worthless life
Only spend wasting hours
Fancying life of lust and greed
Hurrying to a poisonous ruin.