Talons grasp tree’s armour
Tenderly; the first weeks of Spring
Winter's door, closing tight
Snow has moved out, green moved in
Now Sparrow’s time for flight
Bourne on high he tastes rebirth
Budding whites, braches outstretch
Life awakes from frozen rest
The Sparrow, above, the waking Earth
Soaring on change, the guest of Spring
Who adds new cries to the skies
And adds more soles on the knolls
The guest’s stay is brief though
Its room is bare as the boughs
When fiery leaves grace the floor
And as the
air grows cold
Now old, Sparrow knows
That Winter’s door is open once more
