Faraway Land

photograph (c) Arti Honrao


a little bird sitting on my window-pane
watches me as i read and write
it watches me as i do my chores
and as i go to bed;
it flutters its little wings -
ready to take off.

it stares at me and wills me to follow
i see a promise in its eyes
promise of a faraway land
where things are the way they should be
where there is no pain, no sorrow

i close my eyes then -
close my mind to the possibility
i can still hear the flutter of its wings
but i ignore it -
because i know;
even though i follow it to the faraway land -
it is here that i would wake up tomorrow



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