Arriving

 

 Arriving      

 

Such comfort in the bee

who, between the blooming

 

blooms, is seeking her sweet

gauzy drop of nearly

 

honey.  She is

homed here.  Didn’t the face

 

of the sun-

flower open for just this

 

moment with the bee,

this particular bee,

 

rich with her purses of pollen,

the dusts of thousands

 

of teachings stippling her

buzz and humming rise?

 

Tell me, isn’t the richness all the more

important because of her

 

needing to leave

the flower and take

 

on the risk of wind and being

heaved off course,

  

and doesn’t she survive because

of the pollen?  Watch this rising & falling

 

 / \

rising        

falling  

                     

                                   \ /

rising

falling

  

and see in it something very simple.

Feel it buzz.  Feel the buzz beginning

 

to rain on you, which when falling,

hear it? feel it?

 

sounds very much

like applause.