My Old Mate

Oh its my old mate,
who has come at last,
turning my cottage to fertile,
and what gifts He bore?

I asked Him with glee,
as my greed failed to flee.
Well He brought me a sweet setting,
a lavish evening,
as a humble beginning.

The clouds marched,
as He ordered.
Like a blanket pulled over the dark night,
for me to witness His royal sight.

He was yet to arrive,
but I was set to dive.
His message came through the rustling leaves,
as I heard their whisper from the passing breeze.

I was not lone,
but my clan had flown.
They have miseries of life to attend; they said.
but I am stationed to greet my friend; I said.

I made new friends,
as there were many waiting.
The owl was peeping to check His arrival,
While the bug was curious of his survival.

The homecoming bird said;
wait with patience and pride,
as your mate is on the stride
but I grew restless and cried.

And my cry was unheard,
Unheard in the carnival of this herd.
None came to my rescue,
as I sobbed in this queue.

My tears trickled down,
falling haplessly on the ground.
But He came at last,
Yes my old mate had come at last.


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