Birdsong
For hummingbirds, such as yourself, a poem...
a croon along your garden way,
I fly, but one, alone…
now winging from beneath your sunlit glow
I’m given life; my gift, your love;
I rise, to steal the show…
Yet I, a Pilgrim, lose my arrows blind
consumed by what I should have known,
as if I chime, to roam…
Perhaps it is mere pleasure that I sought,
my journey far and migrant… no,
I need your love; I know…
We've traveled long it seems, and now I’ve grown
to understand your love, and why you’ve flown.
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