The stork is coming.

I wrote this in 2007. It is more relevant now.

As the sun dies, birthing the night,

Darkness reigns without the presence of light,
Except for the little beacon high up in the skies,
Flapping his long wings, onward he flies.

He lights up an otherwise dismal night.
He makes all the wrongs into a right.
As we await his impending arrival
With a cargo essential for our survival.

We have been waiting so long for this
Precious cargo, this bundle of bliss.
This answer to our prayers, this light
For which we have and will continue to fight.

There is still sometime till the coming
But the bees have already started humming.
The flowers are already in full bloom
And we know that he will be here soon.