by Julie Cadwallader Staub
Who could need more proof than honey—
How the bees with such skill and purpose
enter flower after flower
sing their way home
to create and cap the new honey
just to get through the flowerless winter.
And how the bear with intention and cunning
raids the hive
shovels pawful after pawful into his happy mouth
bats away indignant bees
stumbles off in a stupor of satiation and stickiness.
And how we humans can't resist its viscosity
its taste of clover and wind
its metaphorical power:
don't we yearn for a land of milk and honey?
don't we call our loved ones "honey?"
all because bees just do, over and over again, what they were made to do.
(the rest of the poem is at The Writer's Almanac)
I've posted some heavy-duty "gettin' through the rough times" poems in the last couple of months. (Thanks for your patience, Regular Readers.) When I saw this poem on The Writer's Almanac last week, I knew I wanted to use it. Partly for a change of mood, partly because I knew I had taken that great bee-on-a-sunflower shot last September (click on the picture to fill your screen with JOY), and mostly because my class has (finally) come together and I know again that I am doing what I was made to do...and the world is sweet.
The round-up this week is at the blog of the author whose book gets to wear the shiny Caldecott Honor Medal: Liz in Ink is the blog, Liz Garton Scanlon is the author. (Marla Frazee made the winning pictures, but couldn't have done it without Liz's fabulous words!)