Visit With Jonas

i went to the fields today.
i had to see him, talk to him again.
the swarms were warm with nectar and knowing.
he asks me to be silent, "don't say a word."

i know his gaze, silky, all along my frame
and he knows,
he listens to my vibrations.
there is so much, and so little energy.

"you don't have to go back. your meaning is here, in your hands."
he takes my hand and points out into the fields, beyond the skeps, endless.
"as far as you can see, there is open space, golden."
i look away.
there is so much i do not want to hear, that i can't register, i am
lack-luster. darkened.
he will not let me drift.
"look at me boy, don't you see? you are, you are beautiful-abandoned. the work's not done, the hive ain't finished, your pollen is falling away. pick it up, just pick it up."

haven't snapped to this.
i must take it to the hive.
i walk away, and though the weight has not been lifted,
i know there's honey there,
sticky,
and sweet.
i'll take it to the hive.