When I was child,
I caught a young sparrow and held it in my hands.
It sang me a song of new birth—
of innocence—of freedom and flight.
Though captured by the beauty of the moment,
I was afraid to lose this tiny mirror of pure joy,
so I put it in a cage to admire.
Days passed, but the sparrow rarely sang.
When it did, its song was no longer beautiful—
it was a song of sorrow.
For the first time, I could see how my fear
had imprisoned not only this little sparrow,
but me as well.
It was then I knew I had to release it
to fly away and be free.