Hummingbird

Her humming touched my soul
Declaring war against
The very cold that I am fighting
she has delivered me warmth.
A warmth that I have never known.
Truly a sensual healing

But there was something behind that hum.
A hum proving to be a prelude of what is to come.
Antagonist of the humdrum.

She sings.
Her singing sheds light. A bright light that ignites my inside.
It brings clarity to insight. She has power through those wind pipes.
A voice discerning in nature with a harmony that cannot be read off paper.

But her humming had a touch

A touch that would go on to heal a damaged soul.
Inner demons released with every whisper from her heavenly tone.

She never aimed but remained accurate.
A goose bump would flare with every note that she'd hit.
Acute at any angle that she'd see fit.
Her targets would never resist.

Arrested, cuffed to the sound of the hummingbird.


Maxime Hilaire



This entry was posted on Monday, January 28, 2013 and is filed under ,,,. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can leave a response.

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