Delight for what is Deep Inside

Delight for what is Deep Inside

Each song, an embryo

every poem, one more seed

the waiting dance, a coiled watch-spring

an image spreading like ink-on-tissue inside,

unseen.

These things we are

are stoppered up like wine in the soul.

Yes, time's a friend, but too much makes

vinegar.

And if work never takes account

of all that is unseen and yet unborn

within,

work becomes mere task never

transformation.

How does one encourage the bloom?

Water, sun, soil… and Bees!

Don't forget the Bees!

For to be of use is to be beautiful,

to be beautiful is to unveil

one's use.

The bud waits deep in the heart

the true teacher drawn in by beauty delighting

in each unfolding blossom.

The call for uniformity's a call for mowers,

not Bees…

But, oh, these fields,

these fields are wild with color!