A distant buzz nears
coming closer until I
look, up into the face of a bird.
A beak, oh so long, sucks on the nectar
awaiting the taste of syrupy sweets.
The eyes declare the truth of its visit.
I have long since missed the days we shared.
The way you would be on the move.
I have waited and since
you have gone and grown wings.
Wings that you have prayed for
since the day you said, “I do.”
You have made it.
You turn and dive near me.
Heart racing faster than your wings,
I put more nectar out.
You, the hummingbird,
whosoever you may be,
has long defied your heart
and now look at you,
you’re free.
EMILY DICKINSON 