By Molly Swan-Sheeran

    Predawn, the song sparrow
    sings his traditional ballad.
    It is the leitmotif
    of my life.
    When consciousness found me,
    in early childhood mornings
    this song I heard.
    Sweet, oh sweet,
    drawing my heart up into the treetops.
    Each chapter of my being
    is numbered and stitched
    by the sparrow.
    Generations of tiny beaks
    and pulsing feathered throats
    have told my tale and theirs.
    Now, today,
    weighed down
    like an old wire hanger
    with too heavy an overcoat,
    I stand and listen.
    As the new sky brightens
    other songs join in.
    Though I am silent,
    inside my spirit
    there are wings,
    inside my spirit
    there is a song.

©2003 Molly Swan-Sheeran

Posted in Poetry |