Sparrow
From "Terrible Love Poetry"
I hear your song echo through the chaos of weary travelers burdens of errands literally weighing them down the ground echos footfalls in tune with shouted obscenities the memories form and obliterate like the dewfall existing in reality even though no one hears the mumbled sounds of sorrow Music by mother earth persists By will alone it exsists by the will of something beyond our control beyond pride and prejudice and hubiris the pale silken veil of reality shifting with the wind and dancing with a discarded Snickers Wrapper I hear you, Sparrow in the narrow terms of my understanding in the stories of angels and Mary that my Grandmother told me several times I was blind to the subtle beauty found in what cynics call ordinary things life embracing concepts like work hard do better, clean your room, be a lady die for your morals that others decided confide in strangers and become a stranger to your own life become Just So until it all becomes too much to bear But you, Sparrow, don't care day by day, hour by hour you live only for one moment that is now your song, your soul is in tiny moments such as this your bliss is simply to exist even though it could be only a single stitch Sperrow, I see in you the naievate of little children that state of being for simply being and you remind me to observe to serve and love as if this is it all we have is now and us in this cosmic thread gone in a whisper