Hummingbird Hailstorm

I put my hand to my heart

The steady, quick pulse

Like the wings of a hummingbird

Ruby red and jade against the blank whiteness

Of winter and ice

I feel the rhythm

As if a hailstorm is beating down

Inside me

Nothing but a cool, pallid world

Colorless and lifeless

Destructive and angry

Leaving only pathetic slush

When it melts to sadness

My soul cries for mercy and spring

For life and love and forgiveness to bloom

But the frozen, bleak expanse

That lives and kills in my heart

Wants only justice and revenge

And love is a foreign word

Belonging to a memory