I was driving one fine sunny day,
When a fallen sparrow did I see,
I stopped a moment to comfort her,
And then she flew away from me.
Free she was, of course, to go,
I knew that I should feel,
And yet I hoped that she might stay,
For her suffering did I heal.
Yet no one owns the mists of day,
And no one owns the night,
And no one owns the clouds that roam
The sky, then drift from sight.
Why then do some think they can own,
A heart that’s just as free,
To rest a while in a sheltered place,
And then take wings and flee.
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