Riddonkulous

I’m built with care, but not by hand, I’m woven where the branches stand. A cozy home, both warm and small, A shelter where the young ones call. Twigs and feathers make my wall, I keep my little guests from fall. I’m not a house, yet home I’m called, Where eggs lie safe and dreams unfold. I cradle life, but never roam, Among the leaves, I make my home. What am I, hidden in a tree, A little cradle for all to see?