There's a little sparrow in my heart -
      he's fluttering around.
He hears the world outside my body -
      he's hushing at the sound
of sweet whisperings and happenings and murmurings
      and untold endings...
who told him when to grow?

He's scratching at the walls -
      his beak a twist in knots;
He must break free his ******* -
      before his spirit rots.
Fly, little bird!  Fly and free your soul!
Throw yourself asunder
before you get too old.

But, ah.
My love, he waits,
his hands are cupped
to catch the little sparrow.
That sparrow never saw but felt
his freedom
by an arrow.