The Humming Flight of Mozqito

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I’m Mozqito, tiny winged bard,
A speck with song and skyward card.
No visa stamped, no borders barred,
I hum through dusk, from yard to yard.

I know your secrets, hide and seek,
A buzzing whisper, through the week.
Perhaps a raw agent, small and keen,
On every joy, and every scene.

I danced through jazz on Mumbai Street,
Where saxophones and moonlight meet.
Then veered through smog and silent cries,
Where towers fell beneath the skies.

I saw the scientist, lamp still lit,
Unraveling secrets, bit by bit.
And watched the farmer, worn and slow,
Planting a future, seed by row.

I brushed past roses soaked in dew,
And whispered through a war-torn view.
I’ve seen a hand give bread to foes,
And watched a tank crush blooming rows.

From vibrant markets, rich with spice,
To quiet rooms, in cold device.
I heard the laughter, light and free,
And silent tears of misery.

I’ve seen the crimson, stark and deep,
Where wounds of ages softly weep.
And known the kinship, pulsing warm,
That binds us through life's sun and storm.

I’ve skimmed the oil on murky tide,
Where oceans weep and creatures hide.
Felt concrete spread where forests stood,
And watched the river, thick with mud.
I've seen the plastic, gleam and rot,
A lonely monument to what's forgot.

And thanks to you, the world evolved,
New heights of wisdom, problems solved.
I, too, have learned, through every age,
To adapt and turn life’s challenging page.
Your growing light, your striving will,
Has shaped my hum, and kept me still.

In Himalayan chill I caught a tune,
Where silence hums beneath the moon.
In jungles thick with leaf and light,
I shared a song with birds in flight.

I’ve dodged the slap, escaped the net,
In lands of wealth and deep regret.
I’ve heard the laughter, heard the screams,
I carry both in pulsing dreams.

Through bustling cities, loud and grand,
And desert wastes of shifting sand.
I've seen ambition's fiery gleam,
And gentle solace, like a dream.

My wings don’t judge, I hum, I see,
From palace gate to refugee.
The music swells, the world spins fast—
Too much we build, too little lasts.

But here’s my hum, my buzzing plea:
Let kindness be your legacy.
Though I may bite, I bring no spite—
Just songs from every human night.

So if I hover near your face,
Don’t curse me for my tiny place.
For I have seen what few ever do…
And carry the songs that live in you.


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