This is a poem about life, it’s sweetness and fragility.
The bee, weightless and tender,
touched down in the heart of the flower
like it was the only place on earth.
The flower, soft and fragile,
received, held and grasped
like it was the only barer on earth.
What transpired was a truck of
giving and receiving, holding and resting
of the bee with all its layout and the flower with all its petals.
No sign of the sting.
the fear of the flower
nor the weight of dreams