Hush…this is the magic moment
When the Merchant City sleeps
As my father’s raiment
Of wondrous wings sweep
Over stone tenements –
Scouring diurnal nests
Inspecting vacant lots
For a delectable feast
His spring clutch awaits.
My mother awoke to life
In the scooped cove
Of a hoary oak
From where she learnt to roam
Till my father swooped
Down one night,
Won by the bonnie
Beauty of her flight
His queen of tawny owldom.
And I was born one spring
In the intersctices of stone
The last sibling
Who has never felt alone.
And though I was the last
And the smallest
Of the nest
Five years ago
I knew I was best.
My parents were agitated
When one night they heard
That New Wynd would be lighted –
Against nocturnal birds
In a festival of radiance
That would keep the folk awake
Festooned with brilliance
Right upto daybreak.

(commissioned and published in Hidden City 5)