The Sparrow - Prose
I look off unto the setting sun, watching the sky turn majestic purples and lovely oranges. I lean across the rail as we sail against the headwinds and watch the sun and sea embrace before the night comes. I watch this beautiful kiss until I see the Sparrow flying across from me. It has been days since we have seen land, so the Sparrow is our little stowaway from our last port.
I watch the sparrow fly against that strong headwind, furiously flapping its wings but able to match the wind. I wonder if she made a choice to explore. Did she choose to leave it all behind: her nest, her flock, and her life so she can set sail to places unknown? Did she choose her own freedom? If she did make that choice then I admire her. I envy her bravery. She tirelessly flies against the wind. I hold out my arm so she can land and rest on it. She turns her head and sees it but she keeps flying against the wind. I wonder if she knows that tomorrow we will dock into a place both foreign to us. What lies ahead of us both, I know not; but she knows no fear, and so must I.