Little hummer,
irridescent rainbow in constant flight,
you whirred into the room at dusk,
thinking my lamp was the moon.
I swiftly clicked off the light,
to guide you to the window
where you beat frantically for a moment,
till you crouched in its corner,
terrified of the giant
whose hands were slowly lowering
to cup you gently.
You stilled, as I carried
your feathered lightness outside
and, when I opened my palms to set you free,
lay for a moment on your back,
surrendered to your fate.
Suddenly recognizing you had survived,
could once more see the sky,
in that same instant,
you were halfway 'cross the meadow.
Just so, do our hearts encounter
their similar terrors,
bring them down to size,
recognize the open door of freedom,
and, each in turn, take flight.
At the farm, given I keep doors and windows open during all the warm weather, sometimes a small hummer would find its way inside, and lodge itself in a corner of the windowsill. In my cupped hands, they felt lighter than a feather, flight itself, suspended for that one moment. I have rescued hummers here, too, when I lived in the apartment building. One cute thing about them is how they hovered, whirring noisily, at the open sliding glass door to let me know when the feeder needs refilling. The blue jays would come to the opening and sometimes hop or fly in, then out, demanding seed. I loved that about the apartment.
I am so glad you were able to rescue the hummingbird. I adore watching them in the summer months drinking in the nectar from the feeder. Life is precious and I am sure it was grateful for its freedom.
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