If a Bee could speak, what would it say? Today I walked along a cement path, which would soon become the grave of a little bee. The bee was obviously dying and as I stepped over it, lost in my own fleeting thoughts, I subconsciously noted it was there and in its last moments of life. This subconscious acknowledgment burrowed its way through my mind and opened its eyes in my consciousness. I doubled back, to observe this bee, for some reason having an unusual urge to respect this little creature fulfilling its last moments. I tried to emphasis with it, pondering what its life had been like and what it had accomplished, assuming that the bee didn’t have the mind power to do this itself, I attempted to look back on its life. I thought it sad that this little bee had lived its life in accordance to its hive. Brought into a huge family and working hard, striving every day to do the best for the greater good. Relentlessly collecting pollen for the hive to make honey, to breed more bees and keep the cycle going. But after all this it was here, alone and dying. I toyed with the thought that what if this bee could talk, what would it have to say in its last moments as a living creature. Would it curse the life it was forced to lead, forced to conform into the structure of the society that its existence was encased? Curse it because even after all the hard work and all the dedication to its hive it would lay here on this pavement in its last moments alone. Would it say it had missed the true essence of existence by busying itself in everyday life, feeling important in its own little chores to be conducted on the daily? Would it cry of futility, that life was pointless for all the work it had done had still lead it to where it was at this point in time, slowing letting life slip through its little bee grasp, all alone. Or would it be proud? Proud of its accomplishments, the endless amounts of pollen it had laboured to its hive, the endless flowers and plants it had pollinated. Would it be content and willing to let go knowing it had done its best in life. I wish I knew for it could help me in my own life and my own choices. If it had the capability and capacity to review its life and share the wisdom it could glean from it. For a second I thought would one day I be this bee, after endless hard work would I die alone, and if so, what would I say? If this little bee could speak, could think and feel, I wonder what it would say.
Posted on: Fri, 26 Sep 2014 04:46:15 +0000
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