Humming-Bird

I can imagine, in some otherworld Primeval-dumb, far back In that most awful stillness, that only gasped and hummed, Humming-birds raced down the avenues. Before anything had a soul, While life was a heave of Matter, half inanimate, This little bit chipped off in brilliance And went whizzing through the slow, vast, succulent stems. I believe there were no flowers, then In the world where the humming-bird flashed ahead of creation. I believe he pierced the slow vegetable veins with his long beak. Probably he was big As mosses, and little lizards, they say were once big. Probably he was a jabbing, terrifying monster. We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time, Luckily for us.