of a hummingbird and our students

watch them fly!   

the school year slowly starts--
as we drive away a bit over an hour,
and connect with others, and our charge, somewhat,

we return to our homes, and pause for a day,
 in individual readying, or avoiding,

we come to the school’s campus the third day
to ready ourselves for the year with a meeting for all
so that we can connect with mission and logistics,

not long before the scheduled start
those of us already in place see a hummingbird,

up among the lights, frantic to find a way forth,
and, for those of us who see her,
we fear for her,
we fear a bad ending to the forging forth
that led her into our world of closed doors
and no flowers that need her, and that she needs,
we cut off lights to help her find a way toward the doorway,
for the actual rescue it takes someone to climb up to her
and gently cup her in his hands,
he then passes her down to me
and I walk quickly out the propped-open doors, pause,
then open my hands upward to the sky,
and she flies up and away,

so we hope to do with our students:
have them spend a time with us in our buildings,
and then we can joy as each flies away
to become the best each can be,

with the hummingbird, we hope no worse for the wear,
with our students, we hope they become even closer
to who they are and who they can be
because, for a time, each was in our care,
and that we held each only as tightly as each needed,
and that each was then primed to fly forth
into whatever future calls to them.

hummingbird image courtesy of Google Images

by Henry H. Walker
August 21, ’12