Sparrow Poem

 

In the masterful way
A sparrow has
Of making his voice heard,
I want you to hear mine.

If that sparrow couldn’t sing
For as long as I’ve been silent
He’d burst.
He’d still fly, though—

Silent,
He’d still flit over the mountains
Still ruffle a feather
For a lady sparrow lover.

Still he’d breathe
Soft little sparrow sighs
Tell his girl
White little sparrow lies.

“Why don’t you sing?” she’d ask
And he’d sigh,
“Girl, I’d love to, but—
I just can’t find the time.”

See, finding your voice
Is a complicated thing.
And using it—
Well, it’s sometimes hard to sing.

That sparrow and I
We’re of the same breed
We’re in the same vein
He flies at my speed.

So fly away, sparrow,
Won’t you fly along to me?
I’ll dance to a tune
But only if you sing.

“Remember when you lost your voice?”
They’ll ask,
And we’ll smile,
“All too well—it’s been a long time.”

In the masterful way
That sparrow has
Of making his voice heard
I want you to hear mine.