Each Little Mystery

May we find truth, and may it resonate with others.

Drone (185/365)

December29

We’ve gotten so used to this world
We made our marks everywhere
Living in the city
It’s harder to fathom that it’s all Mother Nature
That concrete evolved
And traffic is energy
I love my colony but it feels so contrived
But I imagine the worker bee
Feels just the same
When he first meets the queen
In her intricate combs
Just give me a break now and then
To fly off the property
To a place we all own
And remember the feeling
Of only me and my God.

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