Here’s a poem I wrote about fifteen years ago:
Even the birds have tongues.
I’ve seen hummingbird’s, fine as a hair,
slip out to catch the nectar from the fuchsia,
have seen fledgling woodpecker’s tentatively taste
from the birdbell at my window.
Tongues sliding on saliva.
Healing water from our mouths,
healing water all were born with ,
salvia salvation, living water,
humble, intimate, vibrant, vital.
Tomcat licking his wounds after a fight,
my mother licking her finger, rubbing the dirt off my nose…
Saliva, shining my lips and teeth,
cleaning my glasses, sucking my cut finger,
Christ’s saliva on the blind man’s eyes.
More humble than tears,
how did you come to be flung out
of the mouth of scorn?
Published in Pick It Up And Read, Finishing Line Press, 2008