The Bees Within Poem by Mystic Qalandar

In the garden of my inner self,
I hear bees coming from nowhere—
buzzing, dancing
among the roses of consciousness.

I do not see their bodies,
golden as the sun.
I hear only their melodious music,
awakening me in the morning.

I listen to their esoteric voice—
not to their small, black-striped bodies
gliding lightly from flower to flower,
sipping the nectar
of fragrant blossoms
that, in gratitude,
offer them their sweetness.

I hear the trembling of their wings,
and a soft quiver passes
through my inner self.
The stillness trembles
in the golden hush
of the inner garden.

With tenderness—
unhurried, unfaltering—
they do not cease their singing
into the listening ear
of the opened flower.

A gentle breeze drifts through.
The silence lingers.

And my inner self calls for more—
more and more
of this heavenly music
rising from their patient hush.

I keep listening
as the day unfolds around me,
while they go quietly about
their gentle work
with light and music.

And I wonder:

Have I reached
the primordial garden
where I am meant to be?

I do not think so.

There is still work to do,
still something within me
that has not fully awakened.

Thank you,
buzzing and dancing,
transcendent bees.

Yet one mystery remains:

How can a single bee
sing so deeply
that I hear
the music of a swarm?

—MyKoul