The Sparrow

September morn,
sun shines bright,
I witness sparrow's,
protective flight.

Both to and fro,
protects her chick,
nary a scratch,
nor little nick.

On tender twig,
she takes her rest,
ever watchful,
atop her nest.

Never resting,
she'll tarry on,
through resting sun
and early dawn.

She bares this burden,
from up above,
her sacrifice,
born of love.

Day by day,
night by night,
over and over,
until first flight.

My lesson learned,
focus narrow,
love my chicks,
just like The Sparrow.

Copyright ©2009 TheJestfulPoet