The little sparrow fell from the sky,
It broke its wing and could not fly.
I could have stayed there by its side,
Watching, waiting. while it died.

 

But I determined first I'd try,
To find it a place both safe and dry.
So I raised it very high,
To a branch up in the sky.

 

And to my joy, with one sweet cry,
The injured bird began to fly.
Being underneath the Father's eye,
The little sparrow did not die.

 

It went up - up - up into the sky,
With one small wing, the bird did fly.
Then it vanished from my eye
And I bid the tiny bird good-bye,

 

Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
Copyright 2002