From the Sill

The sun broke through today;

A long missed and welcome

Sphere of true hope

That had hidden it’s face

From me for so very very long…

Or maybe it was I who

Hid my face from it for the eternity

Of my journey in the months past.

Clouds that once entwined me in their iron grasp

Began to vanish—my selfish armor fell away

Thanks to one, small, hurting baby sparrow

I found laying on the sill outside;

It’s wing broken by a strike to my window

And, helpless, flightless, and crying in its grief,

Lay on its back begging for help or mercy

From wherever it could or would come.

I opened my window and, with shaking

And tracked and bruised hands;

Reached down and with the gentle touch

Of a gossamer feather bed,

Grasped the tiny body

And brought it into the warmth of my home—

A warmth probably too much for this feeble soul

But which I sorely needed to stay from

Freezing after the drugs and treatments

I had endured and agonized through.

Yet…here he was.

And I knew, in that moment,

It was the same as when God himself

Cradled me in his hands and brought me rest

Through the pain in that hospital bed;

Guarded me by working through the angels

Dressed as nurses and doctors

Who had never given up on saving me

Both from my broken soul and body,

But from my loneliness, terror, and

Crippling depression .

I moved oh so slowly and found

An old book of Glad Bags

And lined it deep and soft with dusting cloths

And hand towels; swaddling it

As I had been swaddled in the bed sheets

That always came loose in my room

But made sure he was not only safe,

But secured from anything

That would cause him pain or fear.

And there we were, he and I;

Exchanging glances and small talk

For weeks to come,

He listening to me as I droned on

And giving me an ear to empty my soul to

While I gave him the strokes and smiles

He needed to rest and heal so that he could

Soar again as I was taught to do

In the company of angels in scrubs.

After weeks and weeks,

When our Friendship had become

As close as two souls in a shared heaven;

He rose on his own and looked square at me

As if to say;

“It’s time now my friend…I must fly my way—

And you must fly yours”

As much as I tried

The tears flowed like rain in wind

And, although my friend needed to go

And live his life as it was meant to be lived;

I realized that he wanted the same for me.

So as I raised the the window

And watched him hop to the sill,

Alive and singing a song of life—

I sang too; from my soul…

Thanking God for putting him in my hands

While I walked in his feathers

And how blessed we both were to find the other.

He tuned and stopped one last time

And gazed back at me,

Slowly cocking his head —

And it was then I knew what he sang in his song:

“Take wing my friend, your life is the sky;

And you are as the clouds—

Float along in the wind and let your heart

Drift from your pain and up away from

Your darkness

And embrace the sun again.”


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