Something so small,

is so significant,

motivating,

and honest.

The little bird in the bushes,

with the brown-gray feathers

sharp black eyes

a tune of simplicity.

This little sparrow that sits on the telephone wire,

looking in

as I look out,

and we accidentally share a glance.

We have an understanding.

 

He hides in the bushes to stay alive

while I hide away for security,

terrified to move on and forward

while he prays that the falcon passes over.

I envy his wings of freedom and voice of gold;

he has a song to be sung and it is definitely heard

every morning,

night,

rain,

clear skies.

My lips are never-moving,

yet there is so much to be said!

But he has already said everything for me,

for he has the courage to chase the crows away,

to drive them out without fear.

He is shooed away from outdoor luncheon tables,

the tiniest crumbs left behind cannot go to the sparrow

but to waste.

But don’t we all search for the scraps?

Some little piece of something we need or miss,

left behind

 or offered

 by someone else?

And yet the little sparrow is the only one

brave enough to be vulnerable

and publicly ask for those crumbs,

to be dependant upon others to survive.

 

If I aspire to be anything,

it is to be the sparrow.

To be elegant but strong,

Flighty but stable,

Gentle but brave,

Small, yet significant.

Just like the sparrow

Who sits outside my window,

On the telephone wire,

Chasing my crows away.