Bend your mind
into the hollow of a tree, believe
in the ability of the body to be brainy,
the brain to be what the body needs,
all hive alive, mining motion, while
motion’s mining mind. Each cell,
each bubbly blurb, has a story
to tell, is a gelatinous home to hone.
Nearness. Emptiness. Fullness. Blur and drone
and work and shape the thought and
another’s born. Relax—there’s flow:
wax wells
from the body, builds, blends
easiest when warmer, softens
as heat heightens, then hardens into form.
Hollowness helps: wallow in it,
fill it with business and melt until
you’re hot enough—
start at hive’s top and inch by inch
cinch downward, using your head
as a tool, a means of measure
to help hold honey in,
keep it from running out.
You are what you think, sweet talker.
Previously published in Crab Orchard Review