Praying with Sparrows
A poem of the 2020 pandemic
I never thought to pray with sparrows, black throated wild
and scrambling for seeds cast carelessly on the hillside.
They hover throughout the hours like unceasing prayers
Giving thanks when no words can.
Warily they brave the rains, the frenzied force, even my hoarse voice
an unknown thunder in their world. Spring’s worst storms roll by
and they sing unheard, choral chirping drowned in human despair
Yet the birds of heaven will teach us.
Tomorrow I will not seek the wood-dark birds; I must wait
for monochrome March skies to bend into blue, and scatter millet
for featherless creatures, new and startled, who do not yet know me.
And later, much later, pray with unfevered heart and rejoice in light
The healing of a new day.
Marilyn Hanchett
Westminster, Maryland
