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Thursday, July 12, 2007

"Ode To A Small Sparrow"


The sun shone in through the window that day;
A dandelion was then a flower;
My mother stood by the windowsill;
As I observed her like a magnificent tower;
There she was singing and the sun was shining;
Through the window and onto her hair;
She stood there in her plain printed dress;
She was the lady so fair;
I sat on my chair at the kitchen table;
Birds could be heard singing outside;
The world was funny-like a big cartoon;
As I grinned there with eyes opened wide;
Then mother motioned-I could go on the lawn;
Out the door I ran lickety split;
I was happy go lucky out on the sidewalk;
I was not necessarily endowed with much wit;
Where could I go-what could I do;
Boredom began to set in;
My venture took me to the backyard;
I was full of mischief and sin;
Curiosity took me to some rocks;
Where I observed some ants in their plight;
Occasionally I would look up to the sky;
And see all kinds of birds in their flight;
Nobody out and about in their yards;
I began to look for a prize;
To take to my mother as a humble gift;
Just to see that look in her eyes;
But wait! There's a sound coming from the fence;
Dare I venture to see;
Yes-its one of those baby sparrows;
Who has been put there just for me;
I paid no attention to another bird;
Who seemed to be making a racket nearby;
The little sparrow seemed so excited;
But I never questioned why;
In my haste I placed the sparrow;
In the palm of my warm small palm;
I held it close and could feel its heart;
It beat so rapidly-afar from calm;
Up to the door of the house I ran;
Here was a gift fit for a queen;
No thought came from my own actions;
Of the sparrow separated from its ween;
I opened my palm to give mother my gift;
The sparrow not moving at all;
When I questioned why to my mother;
It was as though she put up a wall;
Why the bird is sleeping as she took it from me;
As she placed it on the kitchen table;
She wrapped it up in a paper towel;
And told me what she was able;
Later on she would let him go;
After he awoke from his sleep;
The sound from the other bird was close by the window;
A sorrowful song it did weep;

~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Moses, so descriptive. I see a small happy boy. He is filled with love, and all is right with the world. Is this you? 4-5 years old? What a wise Mother in the way she handled it...was it a wall? Self control to not make you feel horrible? I was thinking about time, and Dandelion Wine yesterday...you remind me of my son and his bringing me a bouquet of 'flowers'...sweet times.

Moses said...

Yes my mother created a wall so I would not feel too bad at the time.
It was only years later after analyzing the situation that I realized all of what had occurred.