It was 3:45pm, maybe 3:55pm
With new friends in a new environment
Climbing and jumping from the tree in merriment
Lost in the free will of childhood but hidden in mama’s heart
Even as her body was being devoured by venomous darts
It was the 12th day of March
“Mama wants you here son, come fast”
It was a call to prayer. A prayer for the unknown
Kneels grinded to the ground and left hand on mama
The right hand rolled the chaplet as we resorted to prayer
It was 12:00am. It was surely the 13th day March
The angels blew the blasting trumpets
And men played the melancholic strings of sorrow
“Let us pray for our beloved Sister”
It was a call to prayer. A prayer for the known
Buzz! Buzz! and Buzz!!!
From afar; the rain-forest.
Down here; the middle belt.
Weak are your tiny legs,
Weary are your wings.
You have been Every where,
Yet no one remembered you ever came.
Flowering plants: “He was here, but left with dry six legs, ha ha ha.”
Your head is heavy from long work,
Yet we see no result.
None in your nest.
Busy bee, what have you been up to?
Visiting your brothers and sisters?
Your time will be up soon.
Winter beckons; summer bids farewell.
Such happened last year.
In your little rusty nest,
You must wake from slumber.
Train your hands to collect nectar and pollen.
Make some honey..
The whole world is waiting for you.
We need a taste of your sweetness.
Our throat is dry and tough.
Busy lazy bee.
Give us the feel.