Sparrow and Crow

Time: What wrinkles the skin, wrinkles the soul.

Full fields of flowers, row on row,

stretch the length of the river’s spine.

Two winged birds, a sparrow and crow,

perch in panes above the tree line.

 

Sparrow summons spring in her song,

but she is scared to spread her wings.

Crow is winter trudging along.

She is lonely and never sings.

 

Sparrow could fly if unafraid,

but she stands at the water’s edge.

Crow has flown, with her wings well splayed,

her dreams the dust of withered sedge.

 

Sparrow has many miles to go,

plenty of time for flit and fun.

Crow has tired from travelling so.

She has lived her days in the sun.

 

Sparrow and crow invoke the gods,

touching heaven’s most holy sky;

and both will rise against the odds

as wispy strands of clouds pass by.

 

The river’s tongue slips through the sound.

The earth echoes as ages flow.

How brief the bell of life is found,

a sprig of life in winter snow.

 

Sparrow dreams of an open door,

but the door is within her heart.

Crow has dreamed the same dream before

but was grounded before the start.

 

The mind itself cannot assuage

sighted eyes that refuse to see,

that hold you in an open cage

where freedom is no longer free.

 

Sparrow will have the chance to grow,

to find flight in her airy wings,

or be embittered as the crow

who is lonely and never sings.

Author's Note

Reviews

[Perdition]

The heart of Romanticism as this fully invokes both nature and emotion. It is a gift to know your birds as they are wondrous souls and songs. I watch the crows gather in the mountains and when late December arrives the sparrow begin their nests as I have left the light above the city door with a bulb of lesser watts to keep them warm. And from time to time they'll venture in as well. So this I know as the river as well along with Its spine...the question, if one was to be asked, is that of release. It reads perfectly penned and when I think of time and birds over the rivers I smile and wonder for winter and spring and life so short is the undercurrent is as you said within your mind and heart and will to fly or flint and fun. The other factors are always a loss unnecessary for time and of loved ones who leave suddenly and can clip the wings for a bit as it is never easy. Loved this one~ Thanks!

[Ayvid N]

Dear Linda,
There is such wisdom in your words. Add to it the beauty and skill of your pen...and we have a poem that becomes treasured for all times....Will return to read again and again... Kudos!

[Lorry]

Two different birds that so easily be interperated as two differing versions of people, living free or weighted with life's worries.
I see both sides of myself in these words. One free and vibrant and the other me, world weary that would prefer to use his wings to keep warm.
Perhaps when seasons warmth arrives, I shall soar once more, but for now... Brr! 😊

[Betty Hermelee]

two birds representing two seasons, winter and spring; the Crow is definitely arrogant at times and can frighten other birds....unique species, like humans who are also individuals..., embodying different ideas and lifestyles...you portray winter with beauty "A sprig of life in winter snow"....the sparrow has more freedom than the crow... as he must battle for his forage with others and trust them....the sparrow sings the crow cackles....the music in the video is lovely and makes me think of songbirds....humans feel caged up as well, and beg for freedom... set the mind free like the sparrow; a tinge of sorrow I feel.... Lovely Piece Linda
Best, B

[willweb]

The contrasts and the back and forth play of words and thoughts in this are as amazing as they are heartbreaking to an extent. I do feel sorry for the crow, which I guess I could identify with...but as well, I feel worried about the sparrow and hope its dreams remain intact and the fact that the crow is nearing the end doesn't affect the outlook on life. Though as I look around and listen while here at the office, I have to wonder what the sparrow generation is dreaming. There doesn't seem to be much energy and imagination.
Your poem is beautifully written and deeply expresses the emotions and feelings I believe you set out to show. Once again, a gift to read.

[Tom]

Such thoughtful musings, pensive, poetic, here the sparrow, symbolic of excited ambition juxtaposed with the crow, embittered, world weary as though it never tried nor wanted to venture beyond its enclosed, dreary abode, and set against such pleasant, easy on the eye landscape, wonderful indeed!!

' The river’s tongue slips through the sound.

The earth echoes as ages flow.

How brief the bell of life is found,

a sprig of life in winter snow. '

Inspiring

[emmajoy]

Forgive, Linda, but for some odd reason, I felt so sorry for the crow. You must know many elderly folk who have more than likely had same. similar, better or more exciting lives than those who think they're the first ones to do this that or whatever. That was my first reaction anyway!

However, your use of meter is incredible (ahem, needing lessons here). In spite of each 'rhyming' phrase. the tale within the poem reads smoothly and naturally. That takes so much skill - which you've had for how many years ' have known you! It reminds me of an old French poem. 'Maitre Renard, par un arbre.. ' Back to your words, many thank yous for both the beautiful video.. and of course, its partner!

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Even a caged sparrow may sing. But crows gathered by the murder will only caw a warning. The beauty of a thing or life is often subjective but everything longs for freedom. A wild thing kept in captivity can forget how to take care of itself. It may live longer, though. Whether it is nobler to live a life of "quiet desperation" confined by duty or responsibility or to throw caution to the wind and live only for the self, I can't be sure. Free sparrows do not live forever. Quoth the raven, "Nevermore".

[John the Baptist]

Different generations, different perceptions here. The sparrow is youth, uncertain but open to growth. The crow, however, is experience, a student of the school of hard knocks. We all start out as sparrows, but if we learn to take the blows of life as lessons, we may avoid ending as embittered crows. Excellent rhyming and meter in this one.

[Chris Shaw]

Fabulous metaphors here Linda and your posted image is perfect for your stanzas. There is hope for the sparrow with her whole life ahead of her, to spread her wings and fly, but sadly for the crow, her days are numbered. Sad, lonely, embittered and without song. She hasn’t reached her full potential. One life, we have to make the most of it. Always a pleasure Linda to call on your work.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Chris. This is one of those rare instances where the image actually inspired the poem. I'm glad that it resonated with you. Thank you for visiting and for leaving a review.

[Chris Shaw]

You are very welcome Linda.