The Sparrow
When the shadows, then darkness
Hide the colors of the day
And a serene Sunday morning
Steals the spirit's faith away
When the last dream is a memory
And there is no place to go
And the warmest summer breezes
Have become the winter snow
Can a tiny mottled sparrow
With its wings of feathers fair
Lift a heart so bold and daring
Up to fly in frozen air
Will he see beyond the valley
Of the wicked and the sin
And can he rise above the searing pain
That drives him down again
Then bind my heart with threads of iron
Seal my fate with lore
Leave my soul in hells of fire
Then let me soar once more
Francis J Grasso © 02.26.2020
Copyright © Francis J Grasso | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment