All I needed was a little space to fly,
I was that little bird chirpy and shy,
with your perfect aimed slingshot, I fall as your prey, didn't you hear my cry?
Now that I am your offering to your god in the platter among other fruits, tubers and roots that you eat,
Served to your mountain gods in front of its seat,
Did that mountain lord tell you to offer us?
Or do you only offer to god what you eat?
if not than why such fuss?
Or don't you like the songs that I sing ,
which your ancestors used to cherish,
yesterday there were many today there are only a few of us for you to sing,
won't you miss our company , the songs and the interactions of ours with nature once we perish?
Or is that you like empty skies?
In the quietness of your forests ,
echo of your own foot steps will come to arrest,
wasn't it good to have as your accompaniment the rhythms we sing from skies?
O, Wise human, you know not our link and existence to your surrounding ecology and your own existence. Its better to let us be, to live and let live..
let me share one advice - we are the very part of nature you pray,
today we are your prey, but tomorrow you would be your own prey!
Why not eat, what you have in abundance of nature in these pristine forests - those roots, tubers, vegetables, millet and others of the sort and give me back my wings to glide through those lovely skies,
so that tomorrow while you traverse your forests, I would accompany you when you play your flute and sing in those tunes from the skies!!
