Oath to the Sparrows
Until my solitude
mocks me, this evening,
I'll wait for the light of dawn
to slowly transfigure me
into a fairy queen.
I take an oath to the sparrows,
to be of a kinder heart in the winter;
and with that, a wider latitude of sympathy will
lift from my chest and allow me
to breathe the sweet Hawthorne blossoms
that circumnavigate every spirit,
chiming like lovely vesper-bells,
calling impearled, delicate shells
of mystic wings to flutter around me.
I'll put on silver branches of the glade
and steal dandelion down from the meadows,
while dew drops shake off pixie dust
that glides on the wind--
before my sparrow-clouded eyes
can even blink twice.
