Layer upon layer of green, and light.

The air is still, besides a bee abuzz

searching for pollen, and flowers, to fertilize.

A dahlia tuber meets soil by hands ungloved.

The Queen of this land, many a'seed sown,

numerous rich wombs in Mother Earth dug.

Someday we stewards will be no more than bone,

returned to elements while our soul takes flight,

like a bee who is searching, for what it carries, a home.