Home At Last

Home At Last

He stares at them for hours, transfixed,
watching the midsummer bees come and go
from their hidden hive. He wonders if they
ever stop to take a breath, dig the green,
watch the others come and go.

He remembers when his plate
was full, his agenda filled with
nothing of interest,
nothing but blather and busy-ness
and never a moment to breathe.
He regrets that he’d almost forgotten
about the benefits of sunlit bee-gazing;
regrets that he’d almost forgotten
everything.

But none of that matters anymore.
Now, all he ever has to do is
to sit on his morning porch,
sip his silent coffee,
enjoy the hive.

—————[|||]—————
Poets And Storytellers United
Writers’ Pantry #79
———||]———

poets and storytell

16 thoughts on “Home At Last

  1. I believe that what you describe in the last stanza is commonly referred to as “doing nothing.” But to do it well is a skill that few master.

    • Au Contraire, Teach: The final stanza isn’t about “doing nothing”; it shows a man who can do 3 things simultaneously: sit, sip, & enjoy.

  2. Like you said Ron “sit sip and enjoy” good therapy of gratefulness, i think
    Happy Sunday

    Much💜love

  3. What a lovely image comes to mind. I see myself there, closing my eyes and hearing the bees about their busy business. No one to interrupt and no where to be all day.

  4. Reminds me of that old poem? adage? story?: ‘Sometimes I just sits and thinks; and sometimes I just sits.’ An underrated activity.

    I love the idea of bees taking a moment to breathe. Gorgeous.

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