Tag Archives: bees

The Dance

a photograph and poem by Ethel Mortenson Davis

There is a dance
the bee makes
when it has found food.
It dances in the hive
with all the other bees
looking on
until each one
understands the dance
and knows where to fly–

unlike the astronauts
who came around
from the dark side
of the moon
and saw (for the first time)
what the earth looked like,
new and bright
and more beautiful
than we could have imagined–
a blue-green jewel
shrouded in white clouds.

They wanted to tell us
the best thing
about going into space
was the earth itself.

They wanted to do
the dance for us,
but we could not
get the sense of it.
We could not imitate
the dance.

The Dance copyright © I Sleep Between the Moons of New Mexico, 2010.

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Filed under Art, Ethel Mortenson Davis, Photography, Poetry

The Way of Bees

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

She did not know
about the way of bees
until the full moon
had woken her up
and moved her through
the quiet house,
halfway lit-up
by silver dust,
to the outside door.

Barefoot, she headed
through the gate
to the western trail
where cool, velvet dust
squeezed through her toes.

She decided to check
the apple blossoms
and was surprised to see
bees, at night, collecting nectar.
Beside the swollen creek,
honey-suckle branches
were laden with bees.

She did not know
about the way of bees
until the moon tapped
on her window,
calling her name.

copyright © 2011, White Ermine Across Her Shoulders

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Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry