Birds in the garden

 

My garden is in a mess

The spring-time bounty has been harvested.

Devoured, rather –

The corellas ravished the tomatoes,

Chillis by the lorikeets

And the lemons by the cockatoos

I thank god, that the parrots

Don’t feed on basil

Lavender or rosemary

Sole survivors of the feast

 

‘What’s wrong?’ my mum has called

Mums being mums,

She recognises the despair

In my evening’s voice

And I regale her with

The woes of my Jardin

‘You should be a proud gardener’

She surprised me instead,

‘What more can you ask

Of the labours of your toil?’

 

Was she insane, I asked

To which she smiled,

‘Your garden grew in earnest

Grew so well that winged friends

Came down in large numbers

Smacked their lips and bills

And cleaned every morsel of delicacy

Your garden was a success a la printemps

Can you argue?’

I couldn’t but…

 

 

She continued in singsong joy

‘You didn’t get to eat them,

Is that why you grumble?

Why, Garuda, Lord of birds

Himself sent his emissaries,

Those lovely, darling cacatuas

Came and left with psittacine joy

You should be euphoric

It is a privilege to be able

To feed these avian joys.’

 

‘Would you say the same

If these were crows?’ I baulked

‘Vahana of Shani – a greater virtue!’

Well, who can argue with mums?

After silence,

Her icing came with Sophos

‘Sometimes the world chooses you

To be a channel for grandeur.

Be glad that you got

This opportunity in the first place

 

Be glad someone worshipped you

That you turn divine

For what use is a temple

Where no pilgrim comes to pray…’

Ah, the nutrition of wisdom

From mothers designed to

Save the world bedraggled with woes

I had to smile, eying

The pumpkin seeds awaiting

The start of a summer’s day…

 

23^rd August. 2025

 

Inspired by a real conversation with my mum after birds devoured my garden