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THE FEED
Ahmad Nadeem
Qasmi
Holding a grain
of millet in her beak,
The mother
sparrow has come to feed.,
The young ones
are so tiny and small,
From head to
toe they are beaks,
When they cry.
One grain to be
fed to the ten young ones,
To whom the
mother sparrow should feed?
Conjoining beak
with beak,
With whom
should she solace?
Fissuring the
atom,
You have learnt
to weep and wall in a loud tone.
Splitting the
grain,
You have learnt
to set life on foot,
Could you split
the grain?
One grain to be fed
to the ten young ones.
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