Lost in thought after passing the man trying hard to help the little sparrow bound to the earth (it hopping frantically), my pace quickened.
My gaze was cast downward, as it often is when I am walking through a thought. In all my questions about whether or not to help the lost ones of the world, I was arrested from meditation by the sight of a sparrow that had long been lost.
This little one had some weeks before fallen from it’s trial flight. It was a one way trip for the little one. On the cement-a dried boney shape- it was almost not even recognizable as a bird.
It was a reminder: Weak things die in the Spring.
I walked to the train with a broken heart…