Bittersweet

a bee,

busies itself on a yellow pad of pollen,

gathering quietly

and quickly.

It appears to be rushing,

but why?

It seems as though 

nothing is happening

And then...

the honey comb

drips a golden liquid

 

and like a child

you hold out your hand

and put your finger tips to your mouth

and shift...

into momentary bliss.

Sweetness,

pure sweetness

is all you know

and so you become it--

a sensual creature

drunk on nature's alchemy

or an insects excrement 

and regurgitation

it's up to you 

how you look at it.