Endless Earth

When the bird is too pained to fly,
A sparrow falls from the sky,
And broken breath, and broken wing,
And beak to weary ‘ere to sing.

Now a nest of sod and grass,
Until last breath has come to pass,
Cradled, swaddled in the clay,
The bird’s life sets, as does the day.

As once woven within a shell,
Until sparrow escaped that cell,
Now be unwoven into the sod,
As if by the very hand of God.

And as flesh and feather fester,
Hungry humus now fed by weather,
Strips sparrow of flesh, then bone,
Until this pixie’s ghost is gone.

And yet the song remains alive,
In myriad sparrow song that thrive,
For there is a Spirit, there is a child,
Delighting in every place that’s wild.