May 4 MY BEE

B is for My Bee

My Bee


Born on Mother’s Day,
A gift to the women;
Her color was blue
Though we expected a different hue,
And then she pinked
From her head to her toes,
And reached with startling strength
Taking hold of whatever was within her grasp,
Like to say:
“I’m here.
I’m hanging on.
I found you.”
The first blood of my blood
Arrived on a May morning and
Her mama wept
When the Bee was
One
Day
Old.
“She will grow so fast,” came through the tears.
And now comes the time she will count for us her first six years.
“The Bee”
She is to me
Though that is not her name;
Just what I heard her say
When she arrived that day.
Tall she will grow
And sturdy;
Her honey colored skin and hair
Betraying not who she is
But who she portends to be
A queen, a busy one, a monarch of all sweet things.