The Little Ones Rise

The world is a gift;
the hummingbird its magical messenger in motion;
its wings wave white sage in ceremony.
It moves like curling smoke wafting from a smudge stick;
Its presence purifies the medicine wheel
spinning, cleansing, around all life.
It raises the vibration like a small drum beating,
like its heart beating,
like its wings beating,
like our hearts stirring,
opening as spirit rises beyond the clouds.
These little ones rise, feathers opening our hearts to live again,
to love again,
to allow joy to flow into the dark chambers.
To blossom us up, down, and sideways;
always we open to the sun
dispersing the medicine sweeter than nectar,
like bliss inspirited flowers that renews the magic of life.