He Drifted Through Cursed Solitude

He drifted through cursed solitude Like the blowing branches belonging to weeping willow When all of a sudden, he spotted a multitude A swarm of singing sparrows Chirping in delight, cleaning their ruffling feathers Under the shelter of his neighboring brothers How numerous in flight they were As constellations shimmering in clear dark skies In infinite array he saw them stir Across the horizon with hopeful cries Thousands, upon thousands, to count in a second A joyous sight that nature had beckoned Flying above torrential waters that billow below Into realms of bountiful bliss on high Happiness overcame that weeping willow For they took away his dismal sighs The old man looked and looked but failed to see What treasure the playful children did bring Till past reflection from deeper thought Bought from a perception taken An attitude at last he willingly sought To enjoy a feeling formerly forsaken And then his soul was free from sorrow To soar amongst the singing sparrows