Crossroads

A flower not yet in bloom
nestled securely in its home
the hovering bee, ignorant of its charm
unaware of the bud he can give harm

the bud sways, nudged by meddling wind
the bee flutters away, turning a bend
innocent flower, not yet aware
how to attract the buzz in its snare.

Time goes by, innocence recedes
a new bee hovers and cherishes the sweets
from nectar to honey, bond is made
path for flower is quite laid.

In its security and set ways
the flower smiles in all of May,
Then one day the first bee returns
flower, no longer a bud, droops, and burns...

 

 

note: pictures courtesy of Shefali's photographic skills