Fiona's Bee
by Michael Doyle

There by the grace of April's sleet
Was a bumble bee at Fiona's feet
It was good to start her morning pleasantly
Caught up in a childhood memory

Her father had taught her to pet them gently
Fiona did so then very affectionally
Bee walked onto her palm in serenity
Wingless though she was, Bee felt no urgency

It's not truly a Copernican revolution
That humans and fellow creatures have communication
There is a certain sense of resplendence
That suggests this is more than coincidence

It's only adult loss of tender sensibility
That erases our recall of this capability
There is no clear, bright boundary line
That questions the kinship of hearts and minds

Bombus Tetris; a queen without wings
With a warm buzz, she gently sings
Comfort was given sugar water drips
As Bee preened between her tiny sips

Helping others didn't take practicality
It takes doing what is within one's ability
And a heart given harbor doesn't need locks
Fiona let Bee sleep live in a kitchen box

Good turns tend to build bonds of affection
Each of these stacks into that connection
The beauty and wonder of this is transcendence
Acts of random kindness are mankind's repentance

Even when we lack the self-awareness to know
Like God's lit candle selfless acts tend to glow
Shining a little light on unintentional facts
The God we know, knows us by our intentional acts

Though it may seem to lack in true relevance
Children's stories hint at animal intelligence
As Bee learned to be present as Fiona's company
There came tiny acts by Bee in synchronicity

Fiona and Bee came to share each other's pleasure
Memories that outlived Bee and Fiona treasures
Human moments lived are the passing of many years
Until finally Bee passed to Fiona's loving tears

These dances of love speak to mankind's maturity
As slowly, we grow beyond species in our decency
Maybe it's the prerequisite that ends the tragedy
Of halting mass extinction to replenish biodiversity

The impact of man has been felt in the Anthropocene
Will our grandchildren's draw contrast and glean
That we are in some ways gods who must become good
As they look at the tragedy become understood?

(c) November 11, 2024   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved