on a winter’s night


sparrow through the hallway


“As if when on a winter’s night you sit feasting with your ealdormen and thegns, a single sparrow should fly swiftly into the hall, and coming in at one door should instantly fly out through another. In that time in which it is indoors it is indeed not touched by the fury of winter, but yet, this smallest space of calmness being passed almost in a flash, from winter going into winter again, it is lost to your eyes. Somewhat like this a[[ears the life of man; but of what follows or what went before, we are utterly ignorant.”   Bede

sparrow on a log


“Where can we find a worshiper who envy a sparrow or a swallow just because of their uninterrupted access to God’s altar (Psalm 84:3). Our Genuineness in worship is not revealed by our physical presence in the church but by our desire of being in His Presence always and behold Him (Psalm 84:10).”

Santosh Thankachan

sparrow on the window sil

” Before the sparrow arrived, you had almost stopped thinking about flight. Then, last winter, it soared through the sky and landed in front of you, or more precisely on the windowsill of the covered balcony adjoining your bedroom. You knew the grimy window panes were caked with dead ants and dust, and smelt as sour as the curtains. But the sparrow wasn’t put off. It jumped inside the covered balcony and ruffled its feathers, releasing a sweet smell of tree bark into the air. Then it flew into your bedroom, landed on your chest and stayed there like a cold egg.”

Ma Jain, Beinjing Coma


flying-bird16 sparrow at night

“This is love, to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment.
First to let go of life finally to take a step without feet.”



sing ……


“I want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think.”


Sparrow at night

“Like polish melting into gold my heart has melted into you, like a lotus ascending from water my life emerges from you, like a night bird watching the passing moon I lose myself gazing at you.”


Capture sparrow in thicket.PNG
A little bird, within a tangled wood,
Sang sweetly to the forest solitude;
From matin hour to vesper time it sang —
Until the leafy woodland spaces rang
With such a chorus of ecstatic glee
That all the world seemed pulsing harmony …
~Robert Frost

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