Tuesday 1 May 2012

BEE KEEPING


 My mind drones on, like a hive, each thought’s a bee,

Buzzing past purple fields of perfumed thyme,

Then from home to comb, nectar drips through time,

With amber wax and honey, rippling free.

My thoughts like bees disturbed, sting suddenly!

When snared by any dispute, that’s not sublime;

Beware! bees will swarm beneath the scented lime;

Withdraw deep within your heart of nullity.



The dance of bees points out the path to flowers,

A wise sage speaks, to point the way to Truth.

Queen ‘me’ rules for countless summer hours,

But when she dies, the bees lie quiet forsooth.

If perception has yet to arise, dear sleeper,

Heed this counsel from an old bee keeper.

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