The Sparrow Sings

The sparrow sings, so simply sweet,
its utterance of only being; just
before it takes to flight to feel the air
so feather-light, rush through it all
in just a sweep, a wave, a glide.

The purest moments are just when
we leave it all behind; the worry
and the stress, the anger and the fear,
the sorrow and the pain, the weight
of all the nearness we so often choose
to focus on, when so often we might
simply fly entirely away; allowing
it all just to be, purely what it is –
an essence.

Even thunder blends entirely into
this tapestry. Listen to the rain so
gently tapping on the window pane;
clinging there as if it wished to
enter in this silent space with you,
where still, the sparrow sings,
so simply sweet - its utterance
of awesome, only being.

Strange days and nights of revelation,
as we observe our being purely moving
through the universal rays of living light.
Our emotions still here, yet somehow
muted, used to fuel the visions born
of all our meant to be.

See, how sparkling bright, the air
resounds within this utter tone of truth
unfolding everywhere around each
sacred space that we enclose. So real,
beyond imagination’s flight, we live and
breath in harmony with every other.
Here, the multitudes of tone combining;
there a drifting lightly, as if seen from far
away, gliding on those currents of pure air.

Here to there, and everywhere
expanding as we close again
to open to it all...

? Michaelette ?

Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .