( I saw a squirrel built a nest on top branches of a maple tree. After some time I saw two young ones peeping out of the nest, and soon venturing out.

The nest was there, bare and in open, exposed and vulnerable!

Then Fall came. The leaves began changing colour, beautiful colours-orange, red, yellow, purple, brown- and then they began to fall, first slowly and then suddenly, as a strong breeze swept the tree one day.

And one cold morning, it was gone!)

The Tree, The Nest, The Squirrel
The Maple Tree, outside my window
Once luxuriant and lush
With dark green foliage thick
Stands lonely and lamenting
Of a past gay and rich!

The branches bereft 
Of any life, but once
So beautiful adorned with
A canopy 
Ensorcelling and equipped!
There were interludes
Of hues multiple
Yellow and Orange
Red and Brown
And enchanting purple!

She made a nest
Small and cosy
And then the babies came
Two of them
Soft and cuddly!

They grew and slowly 
Began looking like her
She was happy, and content
The life had meaning
The chores pleasant!

Then days became cold
Nights colder
Winds blew bitter, chilly;  they shivered
The Nest was bare, foliage gone
Protection was rare!

And one night
It was all over
An avalanche of snow
Freezing, full of fright
And they were gone, yonder! 
  
Next year, unknown to her
There will be a new tree, a new nest
Better? or worse?
Eternity of a cycle, like a circle
With no beginning, no end, nothing defined!