What do you seek. Oh little bee. Will you steal the nectar from the flower? Can you? What will you find in the nectar? A momentary sense of madness? Or a sense of exultation? Do you in that moment forget what you are? Do you stop being an entity and exist as a sense? Heightened by the elixir of creation? Where you create yourself to destroy and create again? Did you feel the madness of creation where, feelings unknown, possess you like a devil.
What did you find. Little bee?
When you flew away was there a sadness? Or was there a sense of satisfaction that overwhelms and overpowers into the warmth of intimacy? Did you carry with you the sense of oneness when you flew away?
Did you in the empty space of time, think of the moments and the cold foggy rainy night till the night dissolved in a sanctuary?
Did you find the nectar, little bee?
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