It perched leaf-shaped on the branch
Of the rubber tree, a sliver of indigo
On its back when the sun glimmered on it
Just so, curved beak bent low as though
In supplication, or petition.
I wish I could turn leaf-shaped,
Palm-sized, voice grow higher
With no need for words, so that
I could ask it: what is it
You want, small blue-backed one?
What can I give you? An apple,
Hanging from a branch? Chia seeds,
Or a bowl of water to bathe in, perhaps?
Instead I turn cat-like, learning
To move whilst seeming still, as I
Crouch beneath curtains and peer
Behind walls, waiting for a glimpse
Of indigo when the sun shines.
One morning it sat on the branch
And the sun blazed on bird
And the moment, turning its back
To a sapphire cloak that contained
Turquoise, aqua, cobalt, royal blue
And deepest indigo, the entire rainbow
Spectrum of blue. Then it flew
Into the wide world, where I need
Brown-throated sunbird, blue-backed one,
I wish I could turn leaf-shaped, palm-sized,
So that I could tell you:
You gave me more in one moment
Than I ever hoped
To give you.