By habit, a cuckoo bird, <br />In a crow’s nest it laid, <br />A single egg of its own, <br />A grayish colored one. <br /> <br />The crow lived in the tree, <br />With its laid eggs three, <br />But as its own henceforth, <br />It cared that came as fourth. <br /> <br />All the four, in time, hatched <br />But the fourth one not matched <br />With its color slightly variant, <br />And its voice, a bit different. <br /> <br />The cuckoo chick slightly cooed. <br />While the crow chicks cawed. <br />Yet its love, the mother crow <br />Equally for all, it did show. <br /> <br />One day, when the mother bird, <br />Out it went in search of food, <br />The crow chicks pushed out <br />The cuckoo chick from the nest. <br /> <br />The crow chicks hated the odd one, <br />For its ugly look from the day one. <br />The chick bud untrained to fly <br />It crawled, as it couldn’t go high. <br /> <br />It became a prey to a vulture, <br />The poor chick lost its future. <br />The mother crow cried and cried, <br />Till it became tired and tired. <br /> <br />See the love of a mother, <br />Be its own blood or foster. <br />A truth it’s world over, <br />A bird or human, be whatever.<br /><br />Rajaram Ramachandran<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-foster-mother-s-love/
