This morning a hummingbird stopped by. I think he was red but it was hard to tell because he was more of a blur than anything. He frantically buzzed around to various flowers, totally oblivious to my dotage.
Hummingbird, hummingbird, how critical your business must be!
So industrious! And so serious! And always frantic, always fleeting...
O to work so fervently... But what you do seems so simple to see-
One by one, with feverish zeal, each flower gets its greeting.
What will happen if the wind decides to blow,
and where will you sleep when the winter brings snow?
How many questions your visit poses!
Still most of all I what I want to know
Is how you find time, in your busy day, to stop and smell the roses?
Actually, this little bird reminded me of my son. No matter how I want him to go a certain direction, no matter how obvious I think his path will be, there is no way for me to control it. There just aren't any guarantees, are there?
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber'd here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream...
No comments:
Post a Comment