The Hummingbird

Fast as a cracking whip,

Delightfully sharp as the tip

Of a thistle’s spear,

The hummingbird makes her rounds

Amidst the cacophony

Of melodious birdsong

In the wee hours of the misty morn.

She darts about,

With purpose and speed.

Her movements paint a woven pattern in space.

Sacred geometry.

Her sweet goal—

Nectar,

Quietly, silently,

Awaits her arrival.

She’s here!

She’s gone!

She’s there!

She’s not!

The symbiotic connection,

Between hummingbird and flower,

Is like the balance between,

the Divine Feminine

And

The Divine Masculine,

Within us.

Fast/slow.

Hidden/brazen.

Quiet/loud.

Gutsy/calculated.

Sweet/fierce.

Be the hummingbird.

Be the flower.

You are Whole.