MIRAGE

(1)
The sun bore down with all its force,
The sparrow pressed on with its course.
A little bird flying, lonely and lost,
With grim determination, greater than most.
Wishing for a respite from the scorching heat,
Getting back to its clan will be an improbable feat.
Still it yearns for a sojourn with its mate.
If only the hot wind would abate!
Thirst soon supresses its urge to fly,
And it searches for water low and high.
Far away it spots a river, twinkling and clear,
It rushes to it for a drink, for its life dear.

But alas, it is only a mirage...

(2)
Fly on little sparrow,
You can not reach a mirage.
It is only an illusion
As it always was.
Fly on little sparrow,
Fly towards your sorrow.

(3)
Mirage...
The little one stops flapping its wings,
It falls out of the sky like an inanimate thing.
It falls, and falls, to rest on the sand.
It falls from grace, in a graceless land.

“Water”, is the last thought it thinks.
(4)
It rains, it rains, it rains so hard,
Wetting the wanting throat of the bird.
The sparrow comes back from the dead
And the desert dances for its love.
A mirage...

A miracle; blessings showered from the heavens above.