If there is
a right of return, I
would like to return
to a holy land
fitted to me. In a place
that allows hummingbirds
to be fierce warriors
in their universe
instead of precious gems
in ours, for example,
I may worship
on the scale I prefer,
where every moment
is its own, where the smallest details
are clear and crucial.
Examining their blurs
and hovers, I can say no
to the glorious and impenetrable wings
I have always been told were behind me,
and come back
to the source of flight
itself: the need to feed,
to thrive and pray, with those of my kind,
and to see those hummingbirds
as my kind, in spirit if not in body;
to stare into the cloud of their wings
at the spark of divine humor
that sits still and smiling
within each.
Blogged with the Flock Browser
Dark Matter 
July 15th, 2010 at 12:15 pm
I have really been enjoying following your blog through the LJ feed. Humbled by the sheer amount of good poetry I’ve read here in the last few weeks, too.
Thank you so much for sharing.
July 15th, 2010 at 12:43 pm
Thanks, Maggie. I appreciate your following the feed, and knowing your high standards, I’m humbled by the praise.
July 14th, 2010 at 10:10 am
I love this poem. It really hits on some things I’ve been obsessing about lately, in such a sweet and lovely way.
July 14th, 2010 at 10:36 am
Thanks, Jane!