The Cuckoo Poem



The Cuckoo comes in April
She sings her song in May
She changes her tune 
In the month of June
And July she flies away...



In unison did we sing of this prodigy ever wondering where it came from and where it flew away. Well, I didn't know about others, but looking out of the window looking into its eyes, ever did I wish to ask it of its whereabouts. This little poem resonated in my head every time I heard the cuckoo's song. In those lonely warm afternoons when most of the humanity is enjoying their siestas, its song kept me company. Does its song really mean something. Each year, each of its songs had a secret way of speaking to my heart. Sometimes it called out for adventuring, sometimes it called out to play with colors, sometimes to rediscover lost dreams, sometimes to just doze off dreaming away of an uncertain future.


But, in the facade of beauty and awe, there lies in, its stone dark secret of its birth and survival. Born in its host's net it knocks down her neighbors to increase her chances of survival. Well, it needs to pass on her gift, keep her species alive. How can so beautiful as that hold in such a dark secret? Why weren't we taught of its grimy birth? Weren't we ready yet to learn of it, yet? Could I ever look into its eyes and know that it is the same little monster that killed its hosts just to live?

It is tough to answer.

Speaking so, when is it ever a right time to peer into someone's eyes and discover a darker shade beneath such a happy and beautiful facade? A deceptive mask that the person ever struggles to keep on even though he wishes deliverance. A facade that hides his true self.

Acceptance... 

Katy Perry sang in Unconditionally, "Acceptance is the key to be truly free..."

If only the world was ever accepting of such a person, wouldn't it be easier? It's when the facade is torn off then the man's true face is revealed, a face ever so smiling, ever so happy for the false mask under which it struggled for years, finally finding acceptance in the eyes of its peers. What more could one need?

If only being different isn't seen as weird, if only people realize it's how the world is and that this weirdness is existent in every nook of this world, if not in one's own personality.

If only....

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