Old hive where bees once lived,
Now empty, hollow, swarms
As memories of the dead, still buzzing,
Buzzing alive and sweet as honey.
Walk deeper into inner path,
Past swirling leaves upon the quiet road,
Rolling in the strong, cold wind—
Journey from past into the Now.
Inside my quiet mind, I see Buddha sitting
Tranquil upon his lotus flower.
Within my open heart, I find Jesus loving,
Standing in pools of prayer and sunlight.
Roll away the stone and once again,
Lazarus walks out with courage,
Knows that every journey has its end,
Yet celebrates each hour of breath with Joy,
Tastes each day as sweet as honey
Made by buzzing, working bees
Who flew among ten thousand flowers
But never thought to count their number.
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Buzzing with Religious figures . . .