Industriously weaving twigs twine and mud spittle
they build the nest for their young to inhabit
these small inoffensive creatures without prejudice
peparing for the day of their offsprings arrival
With joy the mother brings forth her young
encased in a light blue egg with tiny brown specks.
they celebrate the arrival with birdsong and then,
both set about alternating the routine of gathering!
Whilst about their business an ever watchful eye
keeps a vigil on the happy home of the warblers
waiting, waiting waiting, for the right time
to make it's move, for it has NO home prepared
When A chick hatches, the parents again
set about the routine of gathering
where during this time of coming and going
the chick is extremely hungry and large
Whilst about the business of gathering
this large ominous looking chick
larger than the other unhatched eggs
gives them a good kick over the side
To their death they tumble never seeing light of day
never knowing the soft feathers of the parents
or their sweet soft warble of contentment
they lie lifeless on the ground, food for predators
The Warblers know something has happened
yet amid the bird song grief they cry out
acceptance of this bigger uglier chick is given
and they feed it tirelessly and unconditionally
Till it is big enough to fly they keep this vigil
never faltering till their job is accomplished
they teach it to spread its wings and to flap and fly
giving all their love till it can survive by itself
Then their nest is empty!
Sometimes Mother Warbler lays again
bringing forth those blue speckled eggs
this time to keep and cherish, nurture and raise
till the baby warblers also are ready to leave, Sometimes!
I know another Parent who allowed his Son
to be removed from the proverbial nest
to fall upon the ground, broken, to die
because a world had NO home to call it's own!
While this Son did not perish eternally,
and came back to redeem the homeless and the ugly
scheming, lazy, brainless inhabitants of this earth
for a short time he endured the fall, of mankind!
Each time we kick someone around
throw them out of their home
declare them not good enough to be our own
leave them to perish through thoughtless prejudice
We are behaving like a Cuckoo.....
Will we be blessed as the diligent loving warbler is?
Who suffers for the sake of the hapless Cuckoo
As did Jesus who is the blessed, who is seated at the right hand of his father?
WILL we be a Cuckoo?
Ch'erie de Perrot
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I'd seen the cuckoo's trolling the sky's some weeks ago, I knew what they were up too, for as child I would wander the riverbank watching the birdlife. It hurt my heart when my Children brought in a broken warbler egg last evening, wondering what had happened, as they could still see some of the yolk in this broken shell.
I explained to them what had happened, and why!
I think they don't like Cuckoo's much now, but I explained that this is a process of nature and is not to be interfered with despite the ugliness of natures processes sometimes, and I believe they understood.