In The Nest Of A Sparrow Poem by Jette Blackstone

In The Nest Of A Sparrow

Rating: 5.0

When I was born
a wraith flew in the window
and sucked out my breath.
As I turned from ash to black
I crumbled in the doctor's arms
and flew out,
weightless like the magic
of a sparrow that sings
to beckon crows.
When my mother cried out
I hardened into the shell
of a human and burrowed
into her arms.
When my eyes opened
I possessed wisdom
of birds and spirits,
yet they still insisted
on excising my wings.
No longer able to fly
I cried for milk and shelter
until the day the wraith returned
and flushed me into soil
where I grew into a poppy
that was picked to nestle
in the nest of a sparrow.

Friday, October 13, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: birth,life
Tom Allport 16 November 2017

a wonderful philosophical poem of a life in an ongoing transformative and perpetual change? ..............well written Jette.

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Jette Blackstone 16 November 2017

Yes perpetual. Thanks so much Tom. Take care. :)

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Unnikrishnan E S 03 December 2021

Revisited. Fantastic captivating poetry. The flair and flow of imagination is inimitable. Loved it.

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Patti Masterman 11 September 2018

What an amazing write. The words picked me up and took me along with their wonderful images. I like the flow of this. I like the positive ending. It's like a little bit of magic. Thanks for brightening my day.

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Glen Kappy 21 May 2018

hey, jette! hoping this finds you well and thriving. checking to see if you had new postings, my attention lit of the title of this poem—there's a a curve-billed thrasher nest with chicks in it in the cholla on a corner of my house's property. the images in this poem are accessible, but i don't have anything in my experience to relate to the narrative as whole. would you mind telling me what it's about? -glen

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Jette Blackstone 10 July 2018

Thanks for commenting Glen. I am alive and well, just not been on PH lately. Happy Birthday! :)

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Denis Mair 31 December 2017

You have a mysterious relation with that wraith. When it comes into your life it sweeps you away in the direction of dreams, then you find yourself in a new phase. Perhaps you are being readied to summon crows. Their message has changed since the times of bird augury.

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Jette Blackstone 10 July 2018

Thanks for commenting Denis. I let this poem just write itself, not worrying about much but the images and thoughts in my mind.

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Doris Cornago 19 December 2017

Is this a rebirth or a discovery? Sometimes, it's hard to distinguish what is the precursor of who we are. By whatever origin or form, I know that you'll find fulfillment.10

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Jette Blackstone 19 December 2017

I would say it is both and I think life is a cyclical thing with no order of origin...

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