My thoughts forever provoke emotions swarming like bees in hives, ever busy, always searching and creating
Sometimes they sting with truth, though a honey’s nectar is always sweet
’Tis my fate to live until my ink jar explodes; or, until a beehive’s ceaseless buzzing becomes too loud
Time to create again—to paint, to forge a stone, and to sing a lullaby
I stamp my singing breath to parchment and I paint my words quickly, before they explode
I cannot bridle inspiration’s desire
For endless horizons repeat their circle like ripples caste upon Milkyway
Thus pages are eternal and golden like endless, ageless stars