and I am vacuous
in their wake
mindful of the practice
of living
but bereft
nonetheless
I was not aware
the depth of
minor rituals
and how our speaking them
to each other
pulled taut
at my sacred spaces
hemming me in
behind and before
The morning sun
falls flat
stretching just long enough
to find the dirt smear
on the tile
I rub it halfheartedly with my toe
but nothing changes
Today
however
I heard about the hummingbirds
how they have returned
seeking nectar
how they eat just enough
to fuel their flight
each minute
So I retrieved the feeders
their red bases
faded from so many days
in the sun
and I filled them to the brim
sweet and dripping
A small but mighty
offering
The land of the living
is full of such sacraments
evidently
Soon I will walk
stronger
Until then
I will just gaze upon my
Ebenezer
