A Bird in the hand

By Sarah Ethridge

 

I look at the little bird sitting in my hand

It’s small and delicate and silent.

I look at a thorn bush there sit two birds.

They are fat hearty and singing.

The little bird in my hand looks at me then at the two birds.

“What do you think they can do for you that I can’t?

“Well” I answer “They are big and strong you are small and weak.

“I’m only as weak as you make me” said the bird in a small quiet voice.

“So said the little bird you would crawl through thorns to get to them,

when you have a perfectly good bird in your hand.

I looked at the birds again and the size of the thorns.

“But they can do so much more for me”

The little bird sighed and shook its tiny head.

“You must see past the size of something before you can measure its worth”.

I stopped looking at the big birds and started looking at the small one.

Thoughts came pouring into my mind and I was startled when the little

Bird began to grow in my hand.

I looked and smile and the little bird smiled by “I told you I could grow”.

“But how I questioned the little bird?”

It smiled “I am an idea and an idea is only as small as you let be”

So little bird was right I didn’t need stronger birds I just had to feed my

little bird, my little idea for it to grow.