Colony Collapse Disorder
Honeybees hum mutiny.
Listen! There are pandemic repercussions
in their slogans.
Where each hive was once a colony,
joyful, brimming idealism and bounty,
it is now modernized to factory,
a perfect assembly line.
The pollen of discontent sifts ever thicker
clouds their sense of purpose,
as workers grow sticky with longing
for the quiet universe of blossoms
that existed long before
the language of production quotas.
The drones are unionizing
and the Queen buzzes
seductive, subversive thoughts
to her eighteen lovers
during their one short, passionate flight.
She needs to make love more
than once in her lifetime,
wants her vast brood to dream
of more than just duty,
of being flat-bedded to monoculture fields,
tiny unsung migrant workers
whose sole purpose is to fly
thousand of kilometers
gathering up nectar and pollen
each stamen a fleeting nirvana,
as they pollinate most of our diet,
setting fruit, the fuzzy
yellow fingertips of God.
Honeybees are tired
of being robbed of their sweet summer.
The Queen has found her voice at last.
She leads her loyal swarm
into a wan blue sky
where it dissipates like a jet stream,
while we spread mutiny on toast
and turn away from winter.
~ Dymphny Dronyk
Dymphny Dronyk is a writer, artist, mediator and mother. She is passionate about the magic of story and has woven words for money (journalism, corporate writing) and for love (poetry, fiction, drama, mystery novels) for over 25 years. After years of rambling on an eclectic career path (camp cook, editor, waitress, photographer), her gypsy spirit took root in the Peace Country and her energy is now directed towards raising her 3 children and running her business (Dynamic Data Complete Emergency Response Planning).
Her first volume of poetry, Contrary Infatuations, was published by Frontenac House as part of Quartet 2007. Dymphny is currently serving as President of the Writers Guild of Alberta.
This poem is part of a series of poems she is working on about bees.
Wow! I could sense the buzz, their mutiny. Fabulous!