SPARROW TEARS

She was just a muddy brown bird,
who attracted no attention
because she wasn't pretty
and couldn't sing…
but, my, she loved her nest of babies,
high above the ground
in the old Live Oak tree.

When the storm came,
it raged for days,
reshaping the forest,
tearing trees from the ground,
until finally,
on the last day of it's wrath,
it tore the muddy brown sparrow's nest
from the tree
smashed it to the ground...
killing all the babies
she loved so dearly.

The bird was so distraught
it neither ate
nor flew
nor moved at all,
for day
after day
    until finally it did something,
no bird had ever done before
or since.

It cried.

Two days passed,
and on the morning of the third
there grew,
from the spot where it's tears had fallen to the ground,
a plant,
one the world had never seen before.

It grew tall,
strong,
green and vibrant,
producing a bud,
that swelled larger,
and larger,
until
one morning
just as the sun touched it's leaves,
it bloomed...
and the world was bathed in the elegance,
of the first Rose.

And ever since that morning
the Rose has represented consumate
undying Love,
that springs eternal
from the depths of the soul.

W. James Beard, Jr.