Opus #10

How I begrudge the sparrow plain,


Tho’ unadorned, subdued,


Unprepossessing, indistinct,


Appears not ornate-hued,


Yet she has wings to fly away,


Escaping earthly care.

She leaves her burdens far below,


And dances on the air.

She twirls and whirls and pirouettes


Across blue firmament,


Unweighed by earth’s persistent pull,


Exuberance unpent.


I stand beneath, observe her waltz,


While to take off I yearn.

She skirts o’er each impediment,


Her path still straight, unturn’d.




Fast fetter’d to my shackling grief,


I covet joy of flight;


But wingless, fixed, weighed down with dread,


I’m grounded from such height.


She’s gone from sight, I turn away,


Then pause… entreat… conclude:


Tho’ sorrow binds me to the earth,


God’s love is not so rude!




His grace puts flight within my grasp-


I tentatively praise,


As I mount up with eagles’ wings,


He clears away the haze,


Now weightless - Christ removes distress,


Lifts off my heavy care,


He smiles at me and takes my hand,


And we waltz on the air.

© Lynne Bourgault Spear, 2007