Let Go, Whispered The Sparrow

A sparrow comes to sit on my shoulder. I am the branch it clings to. My deepest heart is what it wants to be near. But, alas, my heart hangs from a thread beneath my breast; I cannot even hear it beat.

I am lost, said the sparrow, I cannot find my heart. It, too, has but a thread holding its heart to its breast.

Two stubborn threads are all that connect us to our hearts. I am so near to the sparrow sitting on my shoulder that I hear his unsaid wishes. He leans so close that my thread and his become entwined, twist, and soon break free. Oh!

My heart is no longer hanging from a thread beneath my breast. My heart has been set free. My heart is not captured by weariness and wear, my heart is flying through the air.

There, is my heart, floating on the movement its beating alone makes. There, is my heart, sloping through the strands of time to remain disentangled and freed from disenchantment. I am full now, knowing freedom, holding firmly only to my Self and finding strength in movements unrestricted, unimpaired. Free as a bird is my heart as I soar in the big, bright Wholeness that now is my sky.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • RSS

Comments are closed.