We are just as fast as we used to be.
It is the world that has slowed down,
Pulled to a halt before our aching wings.
The shift in momentum—so jarring that
We’ve grown more cautious of the wind.
We’ve lost the urgency to move forward,
To carry a fallen man without pause,
Without questioning his worth.
Mind swaying in the golden hour,
We draw a line to differentiate
Between what is right and what is familiar,
What is hard and what is safe.
Still, I am much like a hummingbird—
Naive and delicate, light and flighty,
Careful not to linger on uncertainties.
Just as quick to feel, to rise, to move
As I was the day before my breasts
Began to swell with knowing.
And yes, life is just as brilliant,
If we choose to see without filter.
A vivid thing, unfolding with care.
Like trees that grow where water lingers.
And we, the watching clouds,
Offer what we can:
A little rain, a little grace.
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