CHINA

shajing@online.sh.cn 

Honey Bee

I see honey Bee from the window,
It's shining light of wisdom.
I see honey Bee from the room,
It can see but can't grasp.

It is a wonderful small creature,
Freely flies outside the glass.
It is so beautiful that, that
I am so eager, so anxious to touch. 

It flies away and can't find,
From the screen with flowers.
I go around in the empty room,
I am so sad for missing it.

Soon comes the smell of flower,
and the sound of honey bee.
Still I can't find nowhere,
Still it is hide somewhere.

The little creature, I call it,
The wave of what I wasn't know.
Music is weaving garden of wood,
I find it, just in my pocket.

Windows all open, flies the bee,
In snow-white singing & dancing.
With the smile of red flowers,
It misses in the clear blue sky.

Month after month, I wait it,
Wait its soft wave to come back.
Day by day, I wonder in garden,
Waiting its glory to return.

Finally one day, it comes back,
In sweet love and good taste.
Along with other little beauty,
I carefully remain it for ever.

Every day, I look at its shape,
It has become kind of liquid.
I can smell the good smell,
And I know it is really it.

© All Copyright, 1/13/00, David Shajing.
All Rights Reserved. Printed By Permission.