Where Have the Birds Gone, from Srilekha?

Where have the birds gone, from Srilekha?

Their wings, once vibrant, are now silent in flight,

The birdbaths, forlorn, yearn for their cheer,

And water bowls, untouched, gleam in the light.

I, too, am disappointed, my heart aching,

As dawn breaks, their melodies once sweet,

Perhaps they visit, a fleeting greeting,

A whispered “good morning” before retreat.

Yet the water remains untouched, unclaimed,

As if I’ve become a stranger to their song,

Am I a problem, a shadow they’ve disdained?

Or does Hyderabad hold secrets that prolong?

Perhaps the city’s pulse beats too fast,

Its concrete heart drowning out their tune,

Yet hope lingers, a fragile thread cast,

That someday, they’ll return, under the moon.

So I wait, at Srilekha, by the birdbaths’ edge,

With water rippling, an invitation extended,

Hoping the birds find solace, take the pledge,

To grace our home once more, their absence mended.