Between the palm leaves on a thin branch sat a bird with his eyes fixed towards the blue sky. He sighed whilst gazing at the scenery unfolding below.. running far to meet the jagged hills of blue. He turned left and right, up and down. The world felt so empty, he was all alone.
The palm leaves waved gently, rustling now and then, as the zephyrs rushed to catch the unseen clouds in the far west. Ah, if only I could become the wind, I'd be free from all this pain and suffering. He sighed once more, listening to the songs of the wind. As the songs died, he heard once more the leaves big and small rustling in the wind. This time the trees were chatting among them. At least they have each other, thought the lonely bird in shame.
Just then the rustling stopped, the trees went silent, so did the wind. Even the world seem to stand still. He looked around, thinking, why? why is the world so void of sound? At last he heard a single sound, it was not loud but distant and soft. The sound grew louder, second by second. He heard it clearly the flapping of a bird. Someone was approaching him, little by little.
He was surprised, this was unexpected. Is this a ghostly wanderer? Or a bird with flesh and blood? Or a vicious predator like the one he escaped a narrow death, just days back? He didn't turn his eyes, instead gazed at the empty blue skies.
As the sound of flapping reached near, the passing zephyrs heard a soft prayer, "oh dear heavens! make my feeble heart strong. Let me find courage to see a comrade, even within a foe!"