By John W.
As the blizzard worsened the sparrow faltered,
It tried and tried, but now sought only a ledge to die on. A Ledge To Die On.
Life had become too difficult. Its course could not be altered.
It felt not the hand of Providence though sensed Its Nudge to live on.
But what could this one feathered friend do alone?
It had no flock, no gaggle, none like it with which it could roost.
It had no place to rest its weary wings, always on the move, no home.
That Nudge from Nowhere had helped, had given it the needed boost.
With his newfound strength, that room he became willing to enter,
As she walked in, she now felt unmistakably again that Nudge from Nowhere.
The flock inside welcomed him, no ledge this, only respite from foul weather.
She had her “birds of a feather,” their nest, now a home near and dear to share.
No bird a-flight was this lost soul, but still in despair and alone.
The discovered flock, a posse, a first step for a common disease to atone.
01/23/2024 – For Dad, 41 Years Later