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Poem

Today I walked under the canopy
of an old Maple tree,
wise in the ways of nature,
free in her advice 
to all who listen.
Politely I observed
this behemoth of wisdom,
some eighty feet in stature,
as Nature’s symphony in faint decibel
crept upon my ear.
The sound wafting to and fro
in the breeze wove the harmonies
emanating from some strange place, 
and played hide and seek with my senses.
A violin concerto, perhaps?
The sound, not a lilt, above the country side assortment
of normal birds, squirrels and goats;
enticing me to listen and look a little closer,  
imbibing my curiosity to identify this song, this ode to Mother.
Looking upward, into the branches I found my answer.
A swarm of Hornets......
Singing a contented thank you.  
I have never seen this before.  
Leaves were covered with a sugary sweetness that was liquid.  
On some it was dry and looked much like confectionary sugar.  
I could not tell if a powdery substance 
was absorbing the high humidity to become liquid
or if the leaves were weeping and as it dried, 
left the white powder.
I realized that WHAT, HOW OR WHY
was not nearly so important as the GIFT. 
How often I have seen the bark weep sweet upon the trunk.
But, that was not as today.
The leaves with sweet ambrosia coating	
enticed the bees to stay and stay.
I returned time after time 
to view the scene
and listen to contented sounds
of the bees rejoicing.
Reveling in the power of He who said, 
“Even unto the least of these”,
and to marvel in the mystery of the weeping leaves
and the glory of God and his proof of
everlasting love.   

Feb. 2011 Charles Henderson

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