I held a bird in my hand, small and injured, warm and soft. Its heart beat wildly-- a tickle of feathers a scratch of feet-- as it struggled to gain the air.
I caught my breath, and said a prayer while I held fast, hands cupped round its desperate body, as if I could keep its fragile life from slowly ebbing away.
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Reviews of "The Broken Bird"
Reviewed by Jane Rodway (Reader)
Reviewed on August 17, 2005
This is so sweet and so sad:( I am a bird (and animal) lover and this one tugged at my heartstrings, good emotion in so short a space, shows good use of language.
Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader)
Reviewed on August 17, 2005
Aww not only does this capture ones heart.
But takes me back to when I were a lad.
Looked after bird with broken wing for a couple of weeks. As I was letting it out to fly off. It hit its head on my dads lawnmower and killed itself..
It wasn't you or death he feared, it was the unknown.
You have a kind heart, and he was lucky enough to feel it's tenderness.
Touching and caring write.
The songs and art in this book are about our collective emergence after the pandemic and trauma of the last few years - comprised of 5 collections: World as Refuge, Where We Live, In Our Hands, Rhythms of Change and What We See & Sow.
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But takes me back to when I were a lad.
Looked after bird with broken wing for a couple of weeks. As I was letting it out to fly off. It hit its head on my dads lawnmower and killed itself..
You have a kind heart, and he was lucky enough to feel it's tenderness.
Touching and caring write.
Lisa