I drift into afternoon,
high on the scent of bees,
frayed hope bannering in north wind,
waiting,

Filled with aromas, intelligence
being the one most strong, most enticing flavor  –
so many different forms of it
melding together,

Summer is on my eyelids,
and the weight of it, collosal and sweet,
I can feel in my chest’s rising,
rising and release

I will understand my life sometime,
all the glory of it,
the colors and textures,
all that weaves and interlocks,
bee mind, and mine.

©Wendy Mulhern
May 20, 2023