A Parable of Survival

What becomes of the bird's nest 
Sat securely on a dying branch, forest trees  


With leaves dried out and falling off 
With open view like open curtains 


What becomes of the hatch-lings  
That sit in open view tweeting, tweeting 


Calling for mother's attention seeking 
To bring back harvest of a kind 


Spotted through the eye gaze of the eagle 
With a lock on lunch, is this bingo   


And if the tree should die 
Does that mean, the hatch-ling with life 


Granted would follow, with faith 
With faith entwined, a sitting duck 


This is a parable, a conundrum stand 
Holding answers in viewing point 


To ask what relations does 
The bird, the nest and the tree have 


And can this be severed, without cutting
The umbilical chord, of the hatch-ling's life 


What becomes of the birds nest "hatch-ling inside" 
Sat securely on a dying branch