Honeybees and Poetry



When bees cultivate

heady blossoms
of orange trees
and manufacture honey,
they make it perfectly.

Is there much love
in the act
turning flowers
into liquid gold?

Careful precision
is required.
Bees work tirelessly
but conscious love?

though now and then
they must sip.

What goes through
those fragile vibrating
insect minds

is anyone’s guess,
as humans obviously
cannot communicate
with bees.  Yet

as I write poetry,
it remains imperfect.
I cannot do it flawlessly

despite how conscious
and love filled the act.

It is a mystery sweetly
kept alive in waxen castles
on thin paper

spit out from architecture
textured from the inky treacle
of barely formed

emotions and ideas

trying to find light.


~ by dianeklammer on February 14, 2013.

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