The Sparrow

As the sun spills over the horizon,
Orange light floods across the fields,
Illuminating the distant land, the bountiful, golden yields,

There, lies a young, swift sparrow,
Which from out those crops emerges,
And greets the dawn, with wide spread wings,
And in the sky it diverges,

That little sparrow then rides the breeze,
Tracing aimless patterns as it goes by,
In a spectacular show of twists and turns,
As he dares to claim the sky,

The sparrow, it knows no boundries,
It has no rules or cage,
It glides with such ease and unfaltered grace,
For it's sprirt will never age,

There are no walls to isolate,
No windows to peer out of and yearn,
You have no master to answer to,
And from no mistakes to learn,

As I watch from my fogged window now,
I envy you, little sparrow,
As chances of such freedom for me,
Will remaim sparce and narrow.

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