vendredi 10 septembre 2010

Bee Song

for Edna St. Vincent-Millay (and for the bees)

They said I was an optimist
when I was very small,
and I believed them when at four
it's hard to judge at all.

I grew believing everything
and trusting with my heart
every word and every song
and every dream i sought;

Until the day the summer turned
and bees were everywhere,
And I thought softly to myself,
It's time for a new friend!

Optimistically approaching,
I squatted near the bee
and reached my ever-trusting hand
toward hope of amity.

I stroked its bristled back
its black and orange hue,
I moved my finger carefully
with love I always knew.

But then it turned and stung me
and swiftly flew away,
yet, I could not betray the truth
for all my days of pain.

So I grew in the secret self
where nothing can be tamed,
while one to another they remarked,
"She just isn't the same!"


3 commentaires:

moigo a dit…

I loved bees as a child and had a "Buzzy Bee" with a felt soft exterior. He clicked ("buzzed") when you pulled him with a cord. Even now I love to watch bees. But I never tried to stroke one, except metaphorically, with that understandable outcome. Enough of that sort of thing and you're locked in your head. Thanks for sharing.


Pisces Iscariot a dit…

A very early loss of innocence - lucky you - I lost mine aged 20ish after dropping acid and discovering the inside of my head. :]

Moineau En France a dit…

it had its good and bad points. after i wrote this, i thought about all weird shit that had happened to me as a child. you really aren't ready to cope that young, and it warps you. but "every day in every way, i'm getting better and better." either that or "abandon hope, all ye who enter here..." i know, you believe in hope. i go up and down with it. xoxoox