Time For Me To Fly

From my grumpy dream-dither
I swither through this long

gallery, a mist obscuring paintings
of possible paths. Get a job

insidious whisper. At the shore
the lake is green tree reflections

outlined in white. Two geese pair high
sure and swift across choices,

feathering the sky.  A fish
leaps, spreads concentric circles.

Sacred symbols emerge like breath.
A snake vees across the bay.

Hummingbirds left three days ago
but I keep the feeder filled for

stragglers. Not all of us are timely.
I picture way stations strung like red

sugar lamps welcoming them as they
race winter. There must be ways

to thrive through my sensibilities, be
grateful as the ground shifts under

unctuous hospitality. I cling to well-
meaning hearts even as I slide into

the cool waters. Hope is a human invention,
a necessary ingredient to sweeten

the indigestible. From the tall grasses,
four ducks emerge preening. As I sit

by the swaying feeder, a tiny hummingbird
alights, my miracle offering accepted

even as I urge this being, fly, there is
no place for you in the coming cold.

Inspired by: Grumpy, Unctuous and Gallery.

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

2 thoughts on “Time For Me To Fly”

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