Wounded Fledgling

WOUNDED FLEDGLING

Only a thrush

and rush

of freckled panic

in your hand.

Only a thrush

but hold it tight

till feather and flight

and bone and song

are strong.

Only a thrush

which you could crush

and yet

you stay your hand

and let

it be;

helping, holding,

soft enfolding,

just as God holds  me.

Only a thrush ....

And me ....