Nature

Busy little bee, and the nature of this
Suffering;
A wilted flower, I follow your limbs
As they brush against the incognizant
Petals of my lazy existence.
Fortunate freeing by a drench, a drop
Of your lifted nature,
Favored visit, the light, sun-spatter
And a sway of memorable delight
Rippling throughout a meager life
As mine.
If you still need my nectar, please collect
In all that is in me to be had.
I am simple. I give all that I have.
From you will I grow again.