In the half-glow of morning early
A bud sits now stretching and yawning
Not ready yet to begin its day
And has its mouth open just slightly
To the misty air and dewy flowerpot
Comes along a bee: restless and eager
Sidles close, to the soft lusty lips
Raring to go, yet pierce them it does not
Eager it is for a glorious union
Driven mad it is by its fiery passion
Yet the bee waits for the heart to be
Healed and for the petals to open ..
It hums a song with soft light hisses
Caressing the petals with its flutter
Gentle pressure of its wings all around
And teases the mouth with flying kisses
The bud wakens with a simmering moan
Its parts becoming soft and supple
Its petals shiver with the bee's wings
Opening slowly to a desire unknown
The crimson honey flows, hot in motion
The bud - no, flower - now full in its bloom.
The bee dives blindly into the warm honey
Joins the flower in a tempest of passion!
Healed was the flower by love's tumult and
Gone were the fears and its heart forever opened!
Abhay B. Joshi