A Bee on Lavender

A poem

A Bee on Lavender

I watched a bee on lavender

One morning in July

She focused on the scent of sweet

That laced a trembling sky

Her legs were deft and nimble

Whilst strong wings defied her weight

She carried as she tarried

Never questioning her fate

She crawled, she combed

She hovered, dove

Whilst drowsily in drone

She cared not where the nectar went

The moment, hers alone

She practised her detachment

Moving on to different centres

Leaving more behind for others

With the sunshine as her mentor

And did she take…….or did she give?

Perhaps the truth, is both

Bound neither by her hope nor fear

Pure instinct was her oath

I wrote this this morning. I’d had a largely restless night wrestling with the usual toils a human grapples with and writing some seriously bleak 3am shit, channelling my inner Morrisey (first line ‘clarity is torture, illumination cruel’ - go figure!).

I glanced out of my window 7.30ish, as I made my morning coffee, and saw a plump bumble bee navigating the spikes of the lavender, a fat lil humbug in nature’s sweet shop. It was calming, grounding presence and steadied me somewhat. I hope my poem brings you the same brief comfort.

I went outside to get a picture of said bee but of course, she had gone. After waiting barefoot on the uncomfortable gravel for five minutes, waiting for her to return, I gave up ……….but just went outside and yay - my striped girl was back!

Hope you enjoy the audio of this too. It’s me reading it instead of the loathsome bot.

PS: ❤️Thanks for reading❤️ If you are new, feel free to subscribe but know that this Substack is nicheless, I write according to mood. Have a read through the archives first to make sure it’s for you.