bee being

lettuce dances.
did you know that?
i saw it today
perform Swan Lake,
its last song sung
before it was flung into my burrito,
a picnic in the wind.

chairs also sing,
performing improvisations
as we sit static
unsuspecting of anything more
than a chance to rest. (our laurels)
on this note
i’ve witnessed symphonies
in dining halls and chapels.

that bee?
he doesn’t want to sting,
only to find out what kind of rare flower
he encounters when witnessing my presence.
he suspects the same of you—
don’t move—
he’ll figure it out and buzz along
his merry little way.
(he apologized for the confusion.)

and people can be really kind.
i’ve seen it time again.
if given a chance we can all react
much different than we’d expect.
there is a lot of pain in this world
i’ve seen that happen too.
but next time try not to assume
they will do bad things to you.

open, listen, take a chance
to see what we can be.
you may find yourself happy,
even surprised,
by what it is you see.
chances are you may discover yourself
quite more
than what you once perceived.

that bee has no beeing-ness
until you give it form.
so it is with you or me,
chairs or lettuces,
everything in between—
you make the world what it is
by the attention that you give.

bee being

~ written during the life-changing weekend with Ani Pema at Omega Institute, in dedication to Sue ~

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Written by lobsterbird