For the Beekeeper

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May you wake to the sun

that wakes the bees in their boxes

and by which you can see your work

and spot the queen

laying her eggs

in golden wombs

of light.

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May you hear the hum

of all twenty-nine colonies

and may it harmonize with the song

of the robins

and the breeze

and your audiobook,

The Return of the King.

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May your bones be strong

for this day of tending each hive,

or painting the frames

or chasing a swarm

or feeding,

and by the sweat of your brow,

stewarding.

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May your patience not wear ragged

as you wait like the farmer

for the precious fruit

of the earth,

but like the bees,

may your work be established

and grow sweet.

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May the day come at last

when you taste the work of your hands,

when the nectar turns to honey

and to jars on the shelf

and to friendships

and a breakfast on the table

worth it all.

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