Rondeau Written After The Season’s First Encounter
When the hummingbirds come near I sense Your grace.
Back to the window, I hear the whir, and brace
myself. I turn, and suddenly — yes — she’s there
sipping coral honeysuckle, and I stare —
a lover memorizing her lover’s face —
until she’s off, running Hunger’s endless race.
And I’m left relishing Love’s sweet, swift embrace.
Of course, when I look I find You everywhere.
When the hummingbirds come near
the garden feels complete, but always this place
speaks Love’s lexicon: leaves’ graceful curls, the lace
of bare branches against a painted sky, here
where day meets night. Still, I have to say a prayer
of thanks for each visit. Nothing can replace
when the hummingbirds come near.
by Wendy Babiak
Editor’s Note: This graceful poem uses form to emphasize the stillness and joy the narrator feels at the start of a new season. In these trying times, this grace is desperately needed.
Photo by Christine Klocek-Lim.
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