Faith of a Cuckoo

The gusts of hot air
and months of despair

the barren lands
with golden sands

the dry weather
didn't do any better

the hopes of the bird made him look upward

all he could see was the clear blue sky and the burning sun

he flew and flew, and flew

over the lands
with golden sands

he found a shallow creek

and tried to reach with his beak

but he felt a bit shy
looked upward at the sky

downward again
but in vain

he wanted to
but he believed it would rain

so he refrained
and looked upward again

he kept on looking up

midst the burning air

beneath the clear skies

his indefinite thirst
couldn't break his trust

the sun could not shake his faith

for he knew the clouds would come

the rain would pour

just for him