Mark Binmore
’Forward into the mysterious beauty of spring The crocuses, melon-dawn yellow snow-purple veined saffron and milk-hearts And birdsong becoming audible, trilling and chattering in symphony Spools of song, sweet canticles in taunting magniloquence melodious code Like an angelical speech Like golden divination and ambiguous dreamlike augury And I came upon a beekeeper And he said do you know you can have it all? The blessed bees vibrantly humming stung with nectar and honey Stinging and healing our ache and our sweetness, our love and our hurt Extraordinarily, the honeybee came upon this All so beautiful And I feel as if spring has touched me and saved me.’