Little honey bee, little friend asleep on my house, what passes before your anthropod eye? Do you see the garden around you or do you dream of the flowers you have seen?
Do you see the pollen you have gathered to line your hive? And on your flight to your hive, just one more flower to light on, just one more. Until you are too heavy with pollen and must return. But it is so warm today, that you come back out of the hive eager for more flowers, for bathing in the flowers and resting on hot leaves, for basking in the summer sun until the evening cool sends you back to your hive.
Asleep and dreaming of different days, oh you of the segmented legs, you of the stained glass wings, oh you of the yellow and black striped tail. What do your anthers tell you today, on this cool autumn day?
Do you sense the other flowers that wait for you on that hot July day? The reds and the yellows? The ones that you literally roll in all for the sake of the pollen, to grace the hexagons of your hive, to feed the new lives of your nieces and nephews.
O sleeping honey bee of the dwindling race, I wish you long life and health. Awake when my garden is warm again and visit my flowers, carrying pollen from flower to flower, so to make the seeds that fertilize my beds and bring me more flowers to brighten my path.