Lord, how often I've found comfort
in knowing I'm worth more
than many sparrows
This afternoon, at three
One such flew
into the glass of
Our bathroom window
A thud
Then silence
Was it the neighbor being funny
Or a terrorist's grenade?
Neither-
Just one, still bird
Lying sideways
Neck bent
On the slope of the roof
Leave it there, says Graham
I can get it later
God, you say I am worth many sparrows
But if this is a sample
I'm not so sure right now
What to think
About worth or us
The sparrow never had to be removed
Pelting rain or bird of prey
Got there first
If I royally screw up
Lying dead on some roof
What am I worth to you?
What does my worth to you matter?
Lamenting the sparrow
I mourn myself
I mourn the glass ceiling
That separates my soul
From you
Keeps me from
Feeling your tears
As they touch
The hidden glass
That shields my heart
I am that sparrow
On that roof
Having hit the glass wall
With a Thud
The wall that lies between
Us
As I lie here as dead
How I long to feel
Your pelting, healing tears
Upon my head
To find
My soul lifted
Off this roof
On the wings
Of the dreadful
Bird of Pray
