About Me

My photo
Archana Kapoor Nagpal is an internationally published author of four books. She often participates in the short story competitions, and her winning stories are now part of international anthologies. She has seen her short stories, poems and Haiku published in other anthologies as well She has also been actively involved in the editing, proofreading and book designing of various anthologies. You can read more about her writing career at the below link: https://www.facebook.com/archanaknagpal/

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Luna - Our Wonder Bird!!


We have four babies – my four birds. They are so friendly that I spend an hour daily, talking with them. They listen to me peacefully and it makes feel lighter. I thought many times to set them free but then the question was – will they know how to search for food and habitat?

Since birth, they are with us and I make sure we do not let them stay in their home (cage) all the time. We set them free in our house so that they can fly and interact with their surroundings. We have been training the youngest of all the four birds – Luna for last one month and she is a wonder bird. I believe; it depends how you treat them. If you do not interact with them or make them feel part of your life, you will find them dull and then the poem below will make you feel more vulnerable (:

If you bring them home then love them like your children and you will see their wonder acts making you laugh and cry at timesJ

I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings - Maya Angelou



The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill for the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.