The humble bumble bee stumbles
into the cavernous morning’s glory,
His furry scurry legs caked in thick white dust,
while squeezing, barely breathing,
into the quiet sweetness of fertility.
My heart pauses between beats
as he pauses in the brief
to take in this amazing blazing gazing.
The humble bumble bee rests.
And the world begins again
as he backs his fat back out
one furry scurry leg at a time
and he buzzes away
into the next morning’s glory.
And I think life is in the passionate pause of creation.