Battle Song of the Ecumenical Sparrow
As the night has gone away,
A hasty rush comes over the morn,
And I, eager for the day,
Share in the strength of the lonely morning sparrow
That shrugs its shoulders
And laughs aloud at being born.

The silhouette fades
As the red-faced sun runs up the hill.
The emerald turns to jade,
And the sparrow laughs and sings
As the dulling day warms its wings
And shakes off the evening chill.

And sleepy-eyed it pecks aloud
As the same hasty rush comes over your soul;
For you are not earnest like the brown-feathered sparrow,
Rather more like the reckless and whimsical gull.

Wrapped are your days in cellophane,
Oh heartless and untrue,
For one day, the sparrow with snow-covered wings,
On icy branches will shiver and sing
And dance on the rooftops by the old weathervane
As it wakes to the silence of a cold, cold morning
That has left only the crumbs of people like you.
So sleep, fatted calves, on your billowy pole,
And wake not to the lonely sparrow's song.
And on Heavenly flight, without wings, without soul,
Wince not for the sparrow which has done the world no wrong,
But which sadly, some day, must swallow you whole.