Thursday, October 3, 2013

"I Wonder"



I Wonder

I wonder
will they return

to this garden
next year, buzzing,
hugging, sucking
life from colors bold -

to this home
next holiday, laughing,
conversing, filling up
these brick walls -

or will the bees
diminish, die
as scientists forecast,

will my children
follow far flung gazes,
leave my arms yearning?

I wonder
will they return?

by Margaret Bednar, October 3, 2013


This is written to the challenge at "Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Get Listed" and for Friday Flash 55 (will link up tonight at 8pm)  Patricia A. McGoldrick supplied the word list - her site is HERE.

I had no idea what I was going to write as I stared at the word list.  So I just started thinking about my last few thoughts yesterday.  I went to photograph a few more bees amongst my flowers.  I had already used my iPhone, but wanted a few with my nice Canon lens... but there were NO bees.    I also have been texting and calling my two college children to see if they will be coming home during this short fall break... I have been put on "hold" and they will get back with me....

So, that is how this slightly melancholy poem was "birthed".  

19 comments:

Ella said...

I wonder, too...
I love the dance of life in your poem. A tenderness was captured like missing a long lost friend~

Anonymous said...

Wistful wonderings!

Grandmother Mary said...

The bees missing are worrisome, the college kids- more expected even if sad.

Brian Miller said...

i like how you start with the bees to give us a context we can understand before making it personal...bees missing...and children out in the world...both can be stresses for sure...and we can hope...and pray....

Maude Lynn said...

Beautiful, Margaret. Just beautiful.

Kathryn Dyche said...

The ebb and flow of life, beautiful.

TexWisGirl said...

awww...

Grace said...

Your children will always find their way home ~ Lovely use of nature to share your sentiments as well ~ Happy Friday ~

Unknown said...

It's beautifully melancholy. I believe our grey moods should be embraced once in a while. I don't believe people were meant to be happy all the time. How would we know what happiness is without unhappiness?
Also, I have my baby girl chihuahua, so my heart is steeled against my children going away...I think...

Debi Swim said...

I like the way it starts with bees and ends with the children. My three children all have their own families now. They come back but the relationship is different - still good but different. That's life.
Oh, and I hope we don't lose the bees!

G-Man said...

Margaret Bednar...
Pondering metaphorically is one of the MANY talents that you so graciously share with us. Thank you for including The Friday Funfest. You are a very important part of the encouragement that inspires folks to keep writing.
Thank you for being such a fine example. Have a Kick Ass Week-End

Anonymous said...

Very sad. I still don't remember giving my son and nephews permission to grow up and get their own lives. I hate that they aren't around as much.

Unknown said...

Wowzers! I love how you combined the story of the bees with your children. They went between each other so smoothly I had to read again more slowly.

You tied them together very well and their stories are parallel though have different meanings behind them! Awesome xoxo

Kerry O'Connor said...

Loos of bees and loss of children from home - two fundamentally unacceptable things.

Alice Audrey said...

I wonder each year about returns and eye my garden with misgiving and hope.

Linc said...

This is a brilliant and beautiful combination of thoughts. Thank you for sharing it with us.

Lolamouse said...

Oh my goodness, Margaret. First, this poem made me sad about the plight of the honey bees and then I got weepy because my daughter is a senior and wants to go far away for college! I would say your poem was quite emotional and effective!

hedgewitch said...

Fall brings these sorts of thoughts, I think, even if you love it for its colors and peace--if the bees fail, and the children wander, nature abhors a vacuum, and I know that something always fills our holes. Still, some things are never quite replaced. A lovely, moody 55, Margaret, and a striking pair of photos, as well.

Gabriella said...

I like how your thoughts lead you to wonder about the return of the bees and of your children. The wistfulness is palpable.