Tag Archives: sparrow

Sparrow: In Fear and Flight – A Faux Ending

The Hawk packed his bags, pacing, eager to fly, ready to go –

“Oh my my, you’ve grown so very tall”

Dream scenes mixing with reality,

And longing for a beautiful farewell,

The Hawk stopped at the Owls nest to see if he had gotten any further with his

contemplation of death and the depth of the human soul,

But he hadn’t,

And the Hawk knew this would be the answer before knocking on the Owls door,

Who was calmly sitting in his double chair,

Ashtray on knee,

Blowing smoke out of his nose,

Deep in thought and brooding with melancholy,

Full of fatherly advice and o’so full of excitement and pain.

The visit was short.

And so the Hawk went to see the Bard of Bird Pond,

For the Crane would be a sight for sore eyes,

For a final time.

The same Crane who had led him to the decision to leave,

On a journey toward understanding and inner reflection

“It doesn’t matter; we are all going to die and it just doesn’t matter anymore”

The Crane said through sad eyes,

A long time ago,

And again for a final time.

The same Crane who now went from place to place brooding with melancholy and the confusion of knowing too much.

But it did matter, and it will always matter, and the Hawk understood that,

And was no longer hung-up on life’s wall mounts of thinking it didn’t matter.

The Hawk stopped at the Peacocks house,

Thought a moment,

And left,

Not knowing what he might have been expecting.


And the sun set,

And the Hawk sat on the curb,

Cigarette in hand,

Smoke in nose,

Knowing too much,

Contemplating what really mattered,

Wondering if his journey had made him a better man,

A lump sum of all he knew,

Or thought he knew,

And all the people he had met and would meet.

And the Sparrow saw,

And the Sparrow had no more to say.


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Tanka: 19: Sparrow: 5

and then the Hawk said,

“I can’t remember a time,

that I felt like this.”

and so, then said the sparrow,

“This will come many more times.”


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Sparrow: Four

“I need to sit down,”

sighed the Hawk, pacing slowly,

“my head feels quite strange.”


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Sparrow: Three

“I love the sound of the engine,

coursing its path through the night.

and with the sights of the w0rld all around us,

I can’t seem to believe it’s all chance”

said the Hawk,

“the journey of the road,

chasing the sun,

forgiving the moon.”

Up a little too late,

with a little too much wine in his stomach

and having smoked a little too much of his bag.

“But when I see such simple beauty,

a child on a swing,

a girl walking with purpose,

I notice the patterns in watching for reas0n.

It’s getting hard to live.”

“It’s not enough to notice and enjoy,”

said the Sparrow,

“but you must also take part and be destroyed.”


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Sparrow: Two

Realizing what he had just done, that Hawk howled:

“O’holy Dove,


crucified and forgotten,

whom gave himself to resolve our sins,

will you forgive my actions when your light shines upon them?”

and fell to the ground in a ball of spirit and flesh,

convulsing with emotion and the melancholy of

6,000 years worth of poets – all weeping and howling

their thoughts, hoping someone might listen

to their sad souls strung on the clothesline,

blowing with the wind.

The Owl,

misunderstood and brooding

time away in his double chair, ashtray on knee,

overflowing and misunderstood – having listened

to their conversations, hour after virtuous hour,

inhaled lightly on his cigarette,

and blew the smoke out of his nose.

He paused,

looking up toward the Hawk and with an air of fatherly advice,

understanding the Hawks troubles and deeply rooted struggles,

announced that he himself,

deep and brooding and

o’so full of excitement and pain,

had once contemplated death and the depth

of the human soul, and at the darkest hour of the night

had seen himself sit across from his seat at the dinner table,

deep with melancholy and brooding in thought.

So surreal and impressive was this event,

he found himself burst into tears and upon

recognition of the fact that he was weeping,

he stopped.

And the Sparrow said

“Why seize your tears when all your life you’ve struggled to feel?”


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Sparrow: One

When the Sparrow spoke,

the Hawk did listen,

for the words were important,

for the Sparrow had wisdom,

like that of no other.

Unlike the others,

the Sparrows wings had never been altered

to keep him on the ground,

like that of the Owls.

“The Squirrels,

they speak of storms,

silently stewing,”

said the Sparrow.

The Foxes trembled with fear,

and the forest was still,

for the forest knew

that the Sparrow knew.


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