The Sparrow
“The Sparrow”
In this moment I am a sparrow,
intent on guiding my landing below.
I am a raptor plucking green seeds,
awaiting the rapture to truly be free.
Gently I perch upon a branch,
inhaling sweetly, my lungs collapse.
I, like the tree, free of leaves
am aged, worn, less feathery.
Yet, I hold wisdom you cannot see.
I hold wisdom instinctively.
I am a sparrow on a dying tree,
destined to simply be, be, be.
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