The flower loved by the Bee
its petals no longer dancing with colour
I bring my body close to see
so my eyes speak to my senses
for they refuse to register the sight
and this smell new to me
opens up my thoughts
this is not the flower in my painting?
so how can it be loved by the bee?
So I pick out a lonely petal
and ponder upon its roots
its sight in my mind does not settle
but this petal is more than one
and now it begins to speak
as if it’s entering a battle
Hold on.
There sits the bee loved by the flower
its wings overpowered by the petal
I bring my body close to see
and in the air a fragrance of beauty
but this Bee under the petal is silent
suddenly it’s dawned upon me
like the prince that was cast a beast
so when Belle touched his heart
came through his buzzing bee
…Today I see that flower
and I am that Bee.
