First, you have to know I raise bees. A few days ago, my hive swarmed, which is nothing more than an overcrowded hive making a new queen and splitting in half for greener pastures. That was all well and good until they landed in a tree near my home. I grabbed an empty brood box to capture them, and create a new hive for my bee garden. Bees are very docile at this stage they are all about keeping their new queen protected. Every single one will beard up in a clump around her body. For the first time I took an entire beard of bees in my hands, probably around ten thousand, to transfer into their new home. I felt like some great benevolent being holding so many pulsing breathing bodies, until I tripped and dropped them. Then a feeling more like being a dip-shit came to mind. The bees were cool, they re-grouped around their queen, giving me a second chance, and a third. Third time’s a charm, now I have ten thousand new boarders, plus a new honey factory. I told you it was a trippy story, later, Steve.

BEEING ME

I do not know what normal is,

Be it a test, I’d flunk the quiz.

Were it a place, a spot somewhere,

Would have to say, I’ve been not there.

In keeping with me being me,

One day I sought to catch a bee.

Or swarm, enough for a new hive,

Picked them up, full ten thousand live!

All seemed well, like a thousand roses,

Till I trip and bruise ten thousand noses.

They look up at me, as if to say,

Oh my God it’s you, on moving day!

Back up they fly, surrounding their queen,

No stings, trusted me too not be mean.

I hold them once more, felt like a dunce,

Nicer than me, I’d sting at least once.

I did my best after their pardon,

Now they are home in my bee garden.

Ponder priceless thought, from nature free,

God’s small gift, forgiveness from a bee.

              I wouldn’t trade being me for anything, someone’s got to think this way.

Steve 5-1-23