Humming

Here is one I wrote in 2008. First I’ll post the edited version, second I’ll post the near-original as editing is a constant state for me.

 

Humming

 

So nimble in flight

so quick and agile

wings move without a sight.

 

I hum along to the fast beat of your wings,

hoping you the best on your perpetual feed.

 

Wings beat near my face

a little bird with so much grace.

 

Just sitting alone contemplating the soon

concerned about a future that looms so near,

afraid of the impending moment.

The air gets thick and it’s hard to get a breath

 

but then the feeling of little wings beat on my face

curious and sniffing it glides though the air about my brow

 

With its peaceful intentions I calm right down.

 

Air flows and there is peace once again,

I draw a deep breath.

It sticks around for a while until peace is made.

Then off into the night where it began,

 

I pray for the little birds journeys

and thank it once more for its serenity.

 

Goodnight sweet hummingbird.

 

 

 

Now the one from 2008

Humming Bird

 

So quick and agile so nimble in flight

Wings moving with out even a sight

Singing along to your impetuous beat

Hoping the best on perpetual feed

Wings beat on my face

The little bird with so much grace

 

Just sitting alone contemplating the soon

Worried about the future coming so near

Feeling so down and afraid of the impending moment

The air getting thick, can’t get a breath

Then the feeling of wings beat on my face

Curious and sniffing it glides though the air about my brow

 

As soon as I realize I calm right down

Air flows and there is peace once again

It sticks around for a while until peace is made

Then into the night where it began

I pray for the little birds journeys

And thank it once more

Goodnight sweet hummingbird

 

It seems not a lot changed, but those structural changes were huge for me and I was afraid if I edited too much from the original I would loose what it was that I was trying to convey when I first wrote it. In this form I can see the night that I wrote it clearly. I sat on my mom’s porch and was drinking my thoughts away, self-medicating my mind. It was a muggy North Texas night and I was thinking about the terrible aspects of being human; the scary places, the bad people, and hard times. I was caught in that line of thought for a while and I remember wanting to be free of it and then a humming bird showed up and made me feel better, I wrote down the experience in the for you see above.

There is a lot that could’ve be done to make this piece better but I think it’s pretty just the way it is.

Later… I posted this and then looked at it again and made even more changes. It seems putting it out there had an affect on my seeing it in a different light. Now I am happier with it than I ever had. I really feel I’m done with it now (he says until he wants to edit it again, haha!).

Here is tonight’s edit

Humming

 

Nimble in flight,

so quick and agile

wings move without a sight.

 

You arrive into my little world and

I hum along to the fast beat of your wings,

hoping you the best on your perpetual feed.

 

Watching as your wings beat near my face

a little bird with so much grace.

 

Sitting alone as I contemplate the next steps

concerned about a future that looms so near,

afraid of the inevitable future that always floats near.

 

The air gets thick and it’s hard to get a breath

but then the feeling of little feathers flitters on my face,

curious and sniffing it glides though the air about my brow

 

seeing its peaceful intentions, I calm right down.

Little wings move a lot of stale air,

 

atmosphere flows and

I draw a deep breath.

The little bird sticks around for a while

until my peace is made.

Then off never to be seen again.

 

I mutter a prayer for the little birds journeys

and thank it once more for its brought serenity.

 

Goodnight sweet hummingbird.

 

And even with this edit I can see words like ‘floating’ that don’t really work. But the reality is it will never be perfect to me, I’ll continue to learn and to understand language better and I shouldn’t worry about it. Its hard though, because I see these words as a representation of myself and I want that representation to be as me as I want it to be. Though in reality we are what we are and maybe a perfectionists touch on a seven year piece of a fragmented memory in poetry form should be, at some point, left alone to be what it is.

Maybe this shouldn’t even be shared. What the hell do I know?

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