The Rumour

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Deep in a green and whispering wood,

Where bamboo bowed to rain,

A black crow and his feathered love

Lived far above the plain.


Their trust was deep, their bond was pure,

Until one dawn displayed-

A golden-blue egg in his nest,

Where morning mist was laid.


High up upon a hidden branch,

A clever cuckoo smiled;

She left her egg for him to raise,

To save her growing child.


The crow returned and stared in shock,

Unsure what he had seen;

When suddenly a myna cried

From out the shady green:


“She brought a stranger to your home!

She broke her vow today!

I saw her wings before the dawn

As softly she flew away!”


Another bird repeated it,

A third bird made it worse;

By noon, a tiny whispered lie

Had grown into a curse.


The faithful bird returned at dusk,

Her wings still wet with rain,

To find her lover’s guarded heart

Now filled with doubt and pain.


“I did not do it,” softly came

Her trembling, tearful cry.

“My heart was ever true to you-

Why must you say I lie?”


But no one listened. One by one,

Familiar faces turned;

And where a quiet love had bloomed,

A bitter fire burned.


How like our human world this is,

Where whispers spread like flame;

Where guilty minds walk free in shade

While pure hearts bear the blame.


For lies need only little wings

To scatter doubt and fear,

While truth stands silent at the door

With no one left to hear.


So listen twice, and judge less soon;

Let kindness have its say.

For truth may need a patient heart

To find its voice one day.

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