By Manu
Yesterday, I saw a honeybee circling over a virgin flower, far away from her hive, foraging, following patterns, she noticed my lingering and disappeared.
The morning passed, and the afternoon skittered, but the evening, when in the symphony of reflections, her melodic flapping caught my ruminations.
I started thinking about her flight, fascinated in the same way those virgin flowers fascinated her, Where is she right now? Why did she disappear?
Did she find the hive again? She was distant from anything
familiar, all on her own, collecting wilderness in environs. She must’ve returned home safely? she fine now?
One note of minor scale pursued other,
an arpeggio of broken thoughts in a progressive rising, with no end in sight, no findings to bring quiet, my mind and her wings were flapping in collusion.
The whiles brought the wraithlike early.
I am worrying too much here, as I always do, They return, they always return,
they always find their hives with music embedded
in their waggish wings, they always fulfill their destinies.
Oh! One day I hope she does. I hope she does.
What else can I do but pray?
By Manu
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