Friday, August 30, 2013

Filled at the Center

A hummingbird zips toward the garden pausing
    at the purple morning glory opening to soak up the sunrise 

Seeing the glint of a shiny copper man-made feeder
    She abandons the royal purple
                Races over
                                Dips in her beak
                                Comes up empty
                                Tries the other side
                Still no nourishment

The snowy white Rose of Sharon quietly opens itself
     with a gentle inviting wave in the soft morning air
Pausing at the shiny falsity
      in her stillness the bird hears the call
                Racing to the open blossom
                                Bowing in her head
                                To the center
Is filled.
                              ~Karen P. Campbell