Baya Weaver the Artist
Born on a blob of mud; a pristine evocation
Lived on houses, made with red mud clay
Inquisitive mind from infancy saw Nature
In its baptism robes; no urbane aping
Unsinned mind observed baya weaver
Netting their nest on palm trees, artistry
Excelled in weaving craft; no human pair
Succeeded in such built-in artistry –
They carried dry straw, small sticks
Sharp beak hemmed in and flew safe
Wove nest surpassing human toils
A tiny figure, sharp move while picking
Small foodstuff from rustic yards
Chit and chee-ee paired mating
No trace of poverty, nor did he see
Wallowed only in merriment, no strife
Their acumen prevented damage of nests
Solid with clay mud, procured for incubation
The inward sight made life wondrous above ground
They sway in the monsoon wind in a musical way
Eyes disbelieved its mechanism, untaught lot!
Nature’s normal breeding gifted such a bird
Sedate, no hurried tussle among mates,
Lived on small grain; fast-eating species
Left a rare beauty to tell of-
©Basudev Paul
About This Poem
The poet in childhood upbringing observed Nature from the very root of the rustic surroundings. Peeping through the small window did he observe the activities of these weaving birds on palm trees in particular. The poet was an evocative observer of Nature. This excited his imagination. As an offshoot of thought, the poet composed this poem with baya weavers’ artistic craftsmanship.