Wilting flower,
what do you know of the world?
asked the bee.

To the bee
the wilting flower said
Of this world,
Mr. Bee,
I only know what I have been
I know not of what is
to be.

To the wilting flower
the bee asked
And what
have you been,
flower?

The wilting flower answered;

Once, I was eager
to learn, to know.
Once, I was fresh
soft, bright, clean.
Once, I was understood
the meaning of this and that.
Once, I wasn’t one to
question
I heard what I heard
and that was that.
Once, I was pure
philosophy, thoughts beyond knowledge
were dirty.
Once, I was a bud.
Waiting to bloom
wasn’t a concern, once,
but a hope.
Once, I was a little flower.

The bee asked
Then what
are you now?

The wilting flower said
Once, I was a little flower.
My petals widened
bloomed
and now
I am a pinch of pollen
waiting for the wind.