Somersaults In The Air

A dove is an elegant, graceful bird.
A hummingbird is a clown.
It’s like driving a Lexus or Mercedes Benz
or thumbing a ride downtown
or catching a bus at the corner stop.
There’s no glamor in this little bird’s life.

When I think of God, I think of the Dove
floating down on graceful wings
to alight on the shoulder of the Chosen One,
to coo and make the world sing.
Such a moving sight as the Spirit descends,
the presence of an elegant God.

Would it matter to you…it doesn’t to me
if the Spirit was a hummingbird?
Don’t laugh, my friend, it just could be.
It’s not the strangest theory I’ve heard.
Powerful, strong, a curious mind.
So close you could almost touch.

I suppose both birds have the attributes
of a caring, creative God.
But I cast my vote for the hummingbird
and before you think I’m odd,
the God I know isn’t hesitant
to look me in the eye

as if to say on my darkest days:
spread your wings and fly with me.
Don’t be aloof or afraid in your life.
Pay attention to what you see.
And with that, the hummingbird
rose in the air and turned somersaults gleefully.

Much has been said in theories of God
of the Author’s majestic grace,
of thrones and kingdoms, omnipotent power,
a grandfatherly look on an old man’s face.
That kind of God is a dove or a swan
and I’m glad if that works for you,

but I’ve just been buzzed by a Hummingbird
who perched on a large red rose.
He cocked his head and looked at me
as he hovered at the end of my nose,
and I knew what he was saying to me;
Let’s turn some somersaults in the air.

With all respect to the elegant dove,
the traditional symbol of God,
while you glide and soar above the crowd
I’ll be off with this tiny hot-rod
who moves with the speed of sacred light
on wings that cause oceans to swell,
with knowing eyes that look into mine,
not to ask or call but compel
my timid soul to take the dare
and turn somersaults in the air.