Sparrows

Why do the sparrows fly so high,
so near the sun,
so out of reach of limb
and rifle shot?

Why do they call,
but more,
why do I hear them call
when I cannot share
their merry song?

Why do they come
and go
like fleeting ghosts;
like happy little phantoms
dancing to a tune
that only God
and angels know?

That I do not know?

Why can no shaft
dethrone them from
their airy seat
into my empty arms?

When shall I be unbound
from this dreary rock,
to taste the fruitful air
on my dry tongue,
to beat my wings once more
against the wind

and dance the dance of sparrows?

audio: http://vocaroo.com/i/s0sCFwKlQjxi