Sparrow If I were you, with wingspan wide
to let me leave this soil and sail on winds,
and watch them from above, tethered, tied,
antmen lacking visions blue enough to singe.
Sparrow lend me skylike passion, dreams
to fill me deep with starlight, leaves and sun,
paint my feathers same as mountain streams,
turn the greens of greed to nature, soft and dun.
Sparrow sparrow let me be; I’m bound below.
Don’t tempt me in your lure of skyward songs,
I’m lost in misery of weight and this, your glow
and anthem reminds me that this life is wrong.
Linking to Marian’s prompt at toads.
October 14, 2019
Your poem sings, and reminds me of my mother’s favorite hymn … His Eye is On The Sparrow.
Oh, BJORN. How I wish I had written this. It is so beautiful and were I not retiring, I would definitely want to feature this gorgeous poem.
Pretty images, Bjorn. I am not at bird lover but I love to watch their antics. “… let me be; I’m bound below” is above what we watching can see, good idea, it is bird talk one to another up there away.
Often we wish for life that seems wild and free but are unaware of dangers that are hard to see.
I love your appeals to the sparrow – and the quiet sorrow of things which cannot always be granted
Oh, oh, but the earth-boundedness of it all. Sometimes that is so present. I really like this, Bjorn.
the lure of skyward songs… Beautiful!
Yes, I wish I had written this. The longing to be a sparrow crashes when we realize life too often grounds us to its pain.