I see bees,

working in the hive,

grateful for their lives,

thanking God that they’re




buzzing in the breeze,

making most of the day,

dodging all the leaves,

but taking time to pray.


Even though the day before,

they lost so many,

they refuse to give in,

still work to earn the penny,


The bees who lost their spark,

they remember now,

but they don’t let the world

turn dark.


I see bees,

working through the day,

mourning ones they lost,

with words they cannot say.


Bees who lost their wings,

but gained another pair,

sent to Heaven now,

rest their heads there.


I see bees,

uniting as one,

refusing to give into hate,

remembering those now




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