Hummingbird

The sun shone today,
leaving a ray of hope on the pillow.
Caressed gently by the warm breeze,
I pretend to sleep.

Lying here next to you,
I listen, hearing your shallow breath.
Content to watch an angel,
slowly emerge from secret dreams.

In the distance outside,
passed the blue faded window sill,
amongst the bloom of the honeysuckle
I hear the hummingbirds dance.

Thirsting for the sweet taste,
of a nectar reserved for them.
Attracted by the color and scent,
longing for the reward it seeks.

Their beating wings give away the secret,
the intent of their longing desire.
Never tiring in the search,
until it has tasted them all.

Laying silently, as if lifeless
a man hoping to believe it has become real.
Searching for the reasons why we try,
not understanding this wall we’ve built.

A westerly wind whistles through the screen
moving sheer curtains as waves of the sea.
And as I pray for the sun to continue to shine,
I hear the distant rolling of the thunder.

by Gary Scott Gebert

Comments (1)

Wow, Gary, I like the extended metaphor of the hummingbird - and the metaphor of the curtains. Transported me far away - like good poems should