I just found out that today is International Bee Day! In honour of these beautiful, very necessary creatures that so often inspire my writing, I am posting this poem.
A family of bees
Sometimes life can be a sweet, sticky thing
like honey on your lips, a net
you get caught in
when your focus is elsewhere.
You wriggle around for a while
unaware your futile struggle won’t win you freedom
let alone respect.
Like the bees, I busy myself with the daily tasks
of caring, doing
trying in any way, to build something
out of nothing
just loose ideals,
wisps of air.
She told me she was grateful
that I must not feel unappreciated.
There was fear in her eyes,
a sad, secret knowing of another’s pain.
He sent me messages, better burnt
words that can never be taken back.
It was perhaps a surprise for him
when I finally cut the ties
that bound me for so long,
honouring the invisible web of boundaries
that were woven in another time.
Every year I would try again
to be the prefect everything to everyone
to seek out the sweetness of honeyed words,
on their lips
the approval in their eyes
Love - the word does not sum it all up,
I wanted more than just love,
I wanted to matter, to be enough, to feel acknowledged, valued
like I have a purpose, a role of my own
I returned to this place of wanting and needing
of endless sweat and blood and toil
but not any more
I am not coming back
- tell the bees I have gone.
Photo by Simon Berger on Unsplash