A Sparrow Falls

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

Another recently revised poem today, the original of which was written 20+ years ago; I have made significant changes. 

Until the coronavirus pandemic and the various safety precautions generated by various lockdowns, I hadn’t realised how much I take some of the ordinary, everyday pleasures of life for granted; one of these is birdsong. 

During dark, lonely days alone in my studio flat in London, I would listen to the uplifting, inspirational sounds made by birds nearby and not only feel less alone, but also better able to focus on nurturing a positive-thinking mindset rather than succumb to what had been but a growing sense of negativity and despair... 

Never again will I take our feathered friends for granted or the simple but effective magic they weave, whether in the life-music they may make or  always being there for us.

A SPARROW FALLS 

World, falling apart;
dreary, all but empty gardens
of the heart;
senses, playing tricks;
everyone, a victim, few of us
suspecting 

Walking out one day,
aware of little or nothing but
in shades of grey;
bonding with a sparrow
in a gutter, its wings barely able
to flutter... 

Anxious hands reaching
down to hold, if small comfort,
bird already cold,
each teary eye looking
death in the face, like a child’s
on a safehouse 

Suddenly, ears pricking up
at sounds familiar on overhead
telegraph wires;
songbirds, keen to re-engage
our personal space with life-music
of life-music

As one, the tiny birds fly off,
once having fed on seeds tossed
by human hearts
eager to thank them again
for returning the mind-body-spirit
to its safehouse

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2002; rev. 2021 

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in my collection First Person Plural, Assembly Books, 2002; rev. 2021]