Honeybees

A Poem By Hannah W. // 6/30/2012

I am afraid of being afraid.
And I know it sounds silly--
sometimes I dream I bring thirsty bees water
and they circle my head like a crown. Forget honey.
It's the bees themselves that really matter;
summer evenings, watching them drop fat from flowers
as if they're made of honey themselves.

But I fear I'd be afraid.

Real beekeepers don't wear gloves.
And if I was stung-- What then?
In truth, I fear I'd drop the frame:
a mess of broken comb and propolis and humid tears.

Still, I some nights dream of bees and think
if I could just stop being afraid
of being afraid of being afraid,
then I'd be bending over sticky frames, my head wreathed
in a hazy veil, and honeybees.

Comments

Loved it, Hannah!!!

Lucy Anne | Sat, 06/30/2012

"It is not the length of life, but the depth of life." Ralph Waldo Emerson

This was fun and also true :)

This was fun and also true :)

Erin | Sat, 06/30/2012

"You were not meant to fit into a shallow box built by someone else." -J. Raymond

sigh...

This is so cool. So true (like, literally, but you know that). I love the rythm. I love the bees.

Bernadette | Sun, 07/01/2012

very real...

This was very real. You really expressed something very beautiful. I loved it!

Elizabeth | Sun, 07/01/2012

************

The Holy Spirit is the quiet guest of our soul." -St. Augustine

I love your poetry.

I love your poetry. I wish I had something more meaningful to say.

Anna | Mon, 07/02/2012

I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right. --The Book Thief

Amazing, truly.

Amazing, truly. I always feel like a broken record when it comes to your poetry because all I can ever think to say is how much I love it.

Tamerah | Mon, 07/16/2012

Oh, my gosh.

Utterly gorgeous.

Sarah Bethany | Tue, 07/17/2012

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