What’s with the bold hyper Hummingbird[s]?
Oh, they’re my loud and noisy Greek Chorus.
Rumble [bumble, fumble] wait the ground shakes!
Listening to the birds, the blood is stirred.
Methinks that my psychic skin is porous.
A tremulous spirit easily breaks.
If I soared like a bird would I be heard?
My voice will rise like the Sun God Horus.
In the early morn birds’ twittering makes
a predication or two of the day’s path.