The Humble Abode

Mama says this is where
  I was born on a stormy night
    the benignant horn was where
      she'd paused to breathe and reside

         The bounteous hollow took her in
           and echoed my cries and coos
             spiralling down the springs
               to protect me as if I were Zeus

                   I slide along the spirals
                    to quench my itching thirst
                      a joyous melody in the hollow
                        and palatable unceasing food

                          When it rains we glide to be dry
                             it shields us from the biting frost
                               when it snows and humans sing
                                 of the ballads of festive days

                                   At nights I crawl and climb
                                    to the window of that horn
                                    and watch the lavender starry sky
                                   she recites stories of distant worlds

                                 Sweet symphonies of chirping birds
                                wake me up on fragrant mornings
                               at times I step outside the door
                             to wander in some nearby forest

                         "Do you stay inside that cornucopia?"
                        A giant cub questioned me one day
                      I looked at Mama with my little black eyes
                   and wished to know the same

               "Honey, this is our humble dwelling
              that nurtures us, protects us, loves us
            as if this was the great destiny
          of a humble horn of spirals

       This is our door to a beautiful heaven
     with aromatic clouds and winged doors
  this will be the blissful abode of tiny beetles
who lived happily in a divine cornucopia."