We are the birds Perched on the pinnacle of greatness Surveying all below Declaring Mine is the kingdom and the power And the glory Forever Amen Unseeing, ignorant Of the mountain of stone and sweat and paint and tears The monstrous beauty The edifice That grants to us our perch; Of this steeple, of this dome That we shit and walk upon with well-soled feet. The thunder calls: Take off thy shoes for thou standest on this Holy Ground And we scamper, and laugh, And mock- Our tiny brains Incapable of acknowledging the ineffable, Our trembling and tears Incomprehensible Even to ourselves. And yet the eye That sees our waste and ear that hears our dissonance Still looks on us as we fall From grace And loves. C. S. Sperry 3/22 Sparrows on Ash Wednesday We are the birds Perched on the pinnacle of greatness Surveying all below Declaring Mine is the kingdom and the power And the glory Forever Amen Unseeing, ignorant Of the mountain of stone and sweat and paint and tears The monstrous beauty The edifice That grants to us our perch; Of this steeple, of this dome That we shit and walk upon with well-soled feet. The thunder calls: Take off thy shoes for thou standest on this Holy Ground And we scamper, and laugh, And mock- Our tiny brains Incapable of acknowledging the ineffable, Our trembling and tears Incomprehensible Even to ourselves. And yet the eye That sees our waste and ear that hears our dissonance Still looks on us as we fall From grace And loves.