A poem: The Song Sparrow


The song was robust and clear,

As if the morning quiet needed

To be roused from its slumber

And brought to life once more.


The song bounced through

The tree limbs,

Echoed under the vast

Branches of the trees,

Until it alighted on my ears.


Was the Song Sparrow singing 

Just for me?

Was it calling for a distant

Brother Song Sparrow whose

Own song dappled the clear

Blue sky with brilliant singing?


Or was its voice raised

In triumphant song for the 

Master of Singing, Who is

And always shall be

The Masters of Birds and 

All Creation?



Comments

Tim Riter said…
John, a fine multi-faceted metaphor. Love this!

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