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.


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