Hummingbird with Monarda Blossom Hover, flick then flick, in taut midair, Inhaling nectar from each blossom tube, A pearly string of moments here and now. You’re motionless above Monarda and (despite the widespread rumors you have wings) I see two blurs of gossamer. Nothing moves And everything hovers, for just a beat, The whole world too, which holds its ragged breath And stops to look. You can count on one hand The moments like that, but when they occur There’s no question what must be done and felt: Drop everything. Pay homage. Watch in awe.
A spiritual director, bigender person, and quasi-hermit, John Backman has had personal essays published in Catapult, Amethyst Review, Typehouse Literary Magazine, Tiferet Journal, and Sufi Journal, among other places. For the past two years John has been named a top 10 creative nonfiction finalist in the Wild Atlantic Writing Awards.