Two little sparrows
hop together and play
in the garden.
They trot across in joy
skip over the flower beds
picking the pollens.
In the backyard,
a bowl of rice is kept
in a bowl.
Mostly boiled
at times raw
as a feed.
Both hurry to the yard
fly around the bowl
and settle down.
I see them through the glass
never do I open the door,
I stay in till they finish.
it is a pleasure
to see them enjoy
I never miss out.
Not that it is a charity
or philanthropy of great
a small act very replenishing.
Meenas Poems 