| Hundreds of Sparrows |
|---|
| Every hair on your head is counted |
| You are worth hundreds of sparrows |
| The tree you planted has become fecund |
| With kamikaze hummingbirds |
| Wings of hundreds of beats per second |
| Of people whose wings are just a blur |
| Afraid our eyes might become impaled |
| By their sharp and tiny beaks |
| I’m so sorry |
| My spirit’s rarely in my body |
| It wanders through the dry country |
| Looking for a good place to rest |
| Your head upon my chest |
| And I can feel the pillow of your breast |
| You are worth hundreds of sparrows |
