A Sparrow Falls

In summer, the saddest thing I have found,

is one who, in taking wing for the first time,

has fallen into deep water for too long,

its life curtailed too soon.

*

With more forethought on my part,

a safety net, a mesh of wire on one edge,

or upturned, a garden pot’s rim,

or a stick fastened under the handle,

to give purchase to your floundering feet

in the pasture water pail.

*

I trust your soul has had safe passage,

such as sparrows reputedly give,

to sailors adrift,

sinking on the stormy wave,

winging swiftly to the one who saw your fall.

I mourn the loss of life.

*

It is somehow akin to the obituary I saw

for a boy that I drove home from school once or twice as a favor,

age, between my daughters.

Family in shock,

a sweet disposition,

true,

had lost his way,

seemed to be finding his footing, friends, a job,

loved working on cars.

At the beginning of life.

What precautions can we practice?

*

In spring, the sparrows had found a place

to build their home

where they had their young about them.

Tiny house, wisps of grass,

a small family of speckled eggs crowded inside.

*

A nest is a hopeful thing,

Built of a wish for newness of life.

Anticipating the bounty coming soon

to the garden just inside their view,

placed in a precarious location

with no fear of what the future may bring,

trusting in the creator and themselves for all their needs.

*

Let go of all your worries, they say.

They will not change a thing.

Live for the day and what it brings.

Whether high above the world you sit

or low upon the ground,

let go of fear and take a leap of faith.

The reward is a measure of success in life.

*

Listen to the still, small voice within,

that works for your good,

and follow its invisible sky trails to where it brings you,

all may be well if you listen hard enough.

*

Prize the daily ephemeral,

find beauty in the humble things of life,

a sunrise or a drop of rain,

a family and your friends about you,

a garden, a place to think, and time.

You do not know when the end will come,

not the hour, not the day.

Live every moment.

*

I add to that, be ready to face the accidents,

the sorrows, and the losses,

to evade the avoidable,

and to weep over the incomprehensible.

*

The parents urged their young to leave the nest and fly.

Their offspring, but one, met success.

I cannot stem the sorrow of the past,

but I can change tomorrow’s path.

Take wing and know that I will extend my care to you,

and to diminish my heaviness of heart on a day of loss,

I will imagine you soaring.

****************

In the traditional Japanese lunisolar calendar, the spring equinox falls at the center of the six spring seasons. The fourth season of spring is called shunbun (春分) Spring Equinox.

The three micro-seasons of shunbun are:

March 21–25 Sparrows Start to Nest- suzume hajimete sukū 雀始巣

March 26–30 First Cherry Blossoms- sakura hajimete saku 櫻始開

March 31-April 4 Distant Thunder- kaminari sunawachi koe o hassu 雷乃発声

This poem, and others in this series were originally published on Medium in Scribe publication, by Thomas Gaudex, editor.

Thank you for accompanying me on my poetry journey.

Natalie