If fear that what must remain hidden will be found,
It surveys with frenzied sortie the land all around.
And finally found within the recesses of a typical tree
And there frantically fashions for its horde a treasury.
All this done with clever beak, claws and anxious wings,
Collected ’round from branches: twigs and leaves.
It hides within this dark place,
And here stands guard in a manic state,
Over the personal things it loves to hate
And while below pass foxes, rats, and snakes,
Near curious squirrels, and astute owls above,
This niche is perceived and found by none.
Throughout the summer, the other fowl outside,
Make a feast of the bounty that they find.
While within the bowels of his dark tree,
This one lone sparrow writhes in misery.
He will not leave this trove lest it be found one day.
And yet wants to leave, and questions the way.
How can I leave the things I only know?
How can I allow these long-guarded things to show?
Cannot from its leaves contrive what really lies beneath.
If I were to make public, this secret hole,
This emancipation would bare the truth of my craven and enslaved soul.
NO! I will stay hidden! I am now even more bent.
I will not venture out, even if heaven sent.
In this tomb I’ll remain; truth’s slave I won’t be.
I will not let them in; through this façade they won’t see.
The secret is mine and mine alone.
So make I this kingdom my fortress and throne.
So all summer sat this poor sparrow “king”,
Surrounded by his self-chosen suffering.
But as none can stop Father Time, no matter how high,
Of summer came fall and then winter time.
When northerly wind cuts short sun’s soft warm rays,
And cause leaves to change clothes and then fade away.
It was during such a cold time that many came to pass,
The rat may have been first, to see the nest’s trove,
But it did not take long for all else to know.
Ironically his collection wasn’t the main cause for surprise,
It was the sight of the dead sparrow still grasping his big horde of lies.
Everyone chooses how his or her life will be.
But not all choose to live a life that is free.
It is easy for other birds to hear this and say,
“That will never be me. I will not stray.”
But we are all sparrows within,
The only difference is what we do with our sin.