Suspend

You, Who blows beneath the hummer's wings,
Who suspends him, mouse-soft bodied, eggshell boned, in thin air--
You, Who holds together such distilled vibrations of living,
not letting them scatter into a thousand meaningless glitters
lost across an abandoned world--
my mind knows, but my heart cannot comprehend, why

You let the sparrows fall.

Holding this tiny corpse of air-dust, my palm its bier,
I catch all I can of answer--
a whisper of all You gathered up into Yourself,
impaled on a tree.

Strange (or is it?)
that the answer is always,
always You.