harbinger |verb| har·bin·ger

Delightful bearer of perfect intentions; my little forerunner of good things to come!

I awoke late and lazily as this past Sunday morning called for. I decided to read for a while.  Pausing briefly, I looked out through the window. I saw a little black speck on a tree.  It took flight and I smiled, knowing then it was a cute little hummingbird.  I love, love hummingbirds! I adore many other creatures of course but for now I closed the book and was immediately inspired to write the following:

 

Hummingbird

A quick glance out the window and I see a tiny spec-like figure, there, in the tree.  Oh little hummingbird resting in exactly the same spot, I see that it is you once again.  Here you take pause but a moment’s rest while your little wings refresh for take two, or is it two hundred?

I know with the spirit of child-like amazement that in any moment you will begin yet another flight and leave me to wonder, where will you go to and at what speeds do you reach there?

My dear little harbinger, to whom else shall you bring great wonder and delight?  Oh what will you do next once you’ve left your perch again, on that same exact twig, of the same branch, stemming off a limb of the very same, life-giving tree?

Precious little hummingbird, in this short time which I have taken to write this love letter to you, I have witnessed your departure and arrival, seven times and I still know not which sweet flowers you sweetly sip your nectar from.

I can only find comfort in the knowing that you’ll return once more, to perch on that same exact twig, of the same branch, which has stemmed off a limb of the very same, life-giving tree!

To the beginning you always return. So then, shall I.

30th January, 2011                                                                                                                                  East Bay, California

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