Colors seen and hidden in sunward cups
are but tiny mirrors seeking a bee’s gaze.
Their nature adorned in petals and nectar pearls,
an offering of transformation into bees and beeness
who, in turn, offering themselves,
enter into their sought and become what they seek.
Is the flower not bee?
and bee not flower?
And both the one?
Flowers delighting in flight and in honey
and in dancing stories singing to other flowers
of distant fields of bees unfolding,
sunlight into sun, offering themselves
to themselves in the morning dew,
for the sake of more flowers
and more bees.
