his song, caught in my throat

I was the sky
once,
people looked up to me
for direction and prognostication
of the elements
I held stars, I held snowflakes
I held music
I was dark and mysterious
I glowed in the aftermath of
countless civilizations

I was slowly becoming Death,
drowning in the Seven Seas
and the world wanted to own me
to fly inside my effervescence
to drink my saturation,
to fit into a shroud, a haze,
a gathering storm
of untold magnitude;
upheavals
of lava, pumice and stone
a Rock of Gibraltar
I stood still,
the Pillars of Hercules
making way

now,
for the sparrow I am

his song
caught in my throat
like an apple core.