The Small Sparrow
by Evangeline Lothian
He does not remember how to fly.
When he last used his wings, he does not recall.
All stuck in a cage, quiet they lie,
Three sparrows that can no longer sing.
They huddle together, one opens his beak.
Begrudgingly fed; not enough for all three,
The young sparrow cries, but he cannot speak.
They are hungry, and thirsty, and oh, they are cold.
How long have they been here?
The birds do not care. One of them leaves —
As a poor penny sacrifice — thus a tear
Runs down the fragile bird’s shallow cheek.
The cage topples over, the birds all a-fright,
It opens: their wings start to stretch.
“You are free, my birds,” they hear from the Light.
“Fly away, my dear sparrows, the whole world awaits.”
He pecks at the hand; it opens to him.
In hops the sparrow, staring at Man.
He sees in kind eyes, not one single sin,
Redeemer of small things, even temple birds.
About the Poet
Evangeline Lothian is an essayist, poet, and the author of the Chronicles of Chaos series. In her free time, she enjoys birdwatching and knitting.
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