The Wind
The wind was moving
across the leper earth.
I saw that wind and that earth
in a vision building strong
as the autumn chartered on.
The sparrows sank into that earth,
each one carrying its own
unique song.
I was a sparrow filled with seeds,
sitting on sand in the sun
sure of all things. Then I was sucked
into the sick earth, breathing in
worm-infested dirt - myself,
forgotten, dead as a broken-off stick,
not even making a shadow.
In a vision I rose up a ghost -
a stronger sparrow now lacking substance.
I found a tree to claim and share.
And in that vision as the wind was moving,
it moved me
no longer.