Where Do Bees Go When It Rains?

Where Do Bees Go When It Rains
– Yours Truly

In the midst of blush petals and the smell of sweet perfumes,

The wind carries a small yet beautiful angel,

How it flies and brings life to the surrounding land,

Making springtime majestic and bright..

Serene

It’s wings making music passing by your ear,

Whispering it’s tales of woe,

The places it’s seen,

The palace of sweet nectar,

Nature’s medicine..

How delicate they dance from one blooming flower to the next,

Imagine a day without their sweet buzzing sound,

Without the color within the cold months of december,

No life to bring,

Desolate.

How unwavering their love for the flowers they help bloom,

Waiting even for the last ones to show their true color,

Dying at the hands of fate,

Forever serving their duty, to love and watch bloom

How i envy the need for their existence,

To know the world would stop,

And collapse without the life they bring,

But in the colds months, between autumn and winter…

Where do the bees go when it rains?

How pure their purpose is,

To serve and to love,

But how easy they drown.

Wings burdened with the pollen of life,

Body sunken,

With the weight of fresh honey.

Such a beauty, yet so easily crushed.

We thank god for the skies,

For the tears of life,

Yet honey bees, we pay no mind.

Such a delicate creation.

I sometime wonder what it would be like to be a bee,

To know my purpose,

To know that i might drown, but helping the ones i love bloom.

What a heavenly way to die,

With my wings burdened with life,

Body sunken with the weight of fresh tears on my shoulders.

Knowing myself being a delicate creation.

So restless I am,

To work my days away, until i can walk through my own garden,

Through the immaculate art works i helped bloom.

Maybe, i am

To be or not to be? Yes

Yet in my colds months of winter, with the storms roaring within my own head

I wonder

Where do i go when it rains…

Do i seek shelter and selfishly help myself?

Or do i risk drowning, but helping the ones i love…

What a heavenly way to die.

What a time to be alive.

So tell me,

Where do you go when it rains?