To have loved is everything. I loved, once
A hummingbird who came every afternoon-the freedom loving male-
Who flew by himself to sample the sweets of the garden
To sit on a high, leafless branch with his red throat gleaming.
And then, he came no more. And I’m still waiting for him, ten years later,
To come back, and he will, or he will not.
There is a certain commitment
That each of us is given, that has to do with another world
If there is one. I remember you, hummingbird. I think of you every day
Even as I am still here, soaked in color, waiting, year after honey-rich year.
What is this other world of which Mary speaks? Is it heaven? The beloved community? A science fiction adventure where we discover new planets and species?
I wonder if it this other place isn’t already here, within and without us. Perhaps it is a commitment to love and hence be bathed in all the colors of the rainbow. We promise to do this even knowing that one day the light will fade from our eyes and we will no longer see the sign of life’s covenant with us.
After death we either will come back to life, or we will not.
But what if we came back to life this day with the sun’s rising?
What or who will you love today?
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