July 29, 2001

We can read each other’s stories
written loudly across our foreheads,
and like a honey bee’s body wagging,
the message is understood.
And like bees, we wander
lives of gathered experience,
yearning to tell our tales
and be joined by shared significance.
Longing for and not knowing how to find it
drives us,
hoping for a tie to bind us.
Like social bees who need the group
we hunger for the hive.
Even the solitary ones among us,
like mason bees who nest apart,
in the deepest sense no lives are singular,
we’re all in this connected.
The links play out like waves on water
crossing continents.
I know this, because the times I’ve felt truly understood
it came as something visceral.
A knowing fed by deep communion
harbored in a look or energetic feeling.
Seldom words, or explanations,
that union came from shared experience
that could be felt at a distance.

Copyright © 2001-2003 Kristen Spexarth