The Larvae Of Humankind Poem by Mark Heathcote

Honeycomb together
but each separately confined,
we are the larvae of humankind, in solitude
we grow, we fatten all our reserves
and ever greedily,
we seek more than our 'just deserts.'
It is only when we leave this hive
and head to look for desert flowers,
one single flower above all.
Do we understand the processes?
Of what goes into making honey,
it-is-only when we have tasted
all the dried-out rancid earth,
do we envy the seed about to sprout?
About to once again grow, flower giving birth.