Everything is Beautiful Here
As I walk along the mild crest
Of mother natures shapely breast
I see bees nuzzling the honeysuckle
Borrowing the nectar a while,
They use it for a homegrown sneeze
To bustle the flowers, brush up the trees
Pollen is in limbo, clinging to a bees knees
Of mother natures shapely breast
I see bees nuzzling the honeysuckle
Borrowing the nectar a while,
They use it for a homegrown sneeze
To bustle the flowers, brush up the trees
Pollen is in limbo, clinging to a bees knees
I begin to wonder about the names I leave
Plain to see before you, I shall ask
How they came to be
Before honeysuckle became known as a vine
And before a bee got that buzzy design,
Did mother nature write a script?
Did it say we will fill every line?
Did it say we will use words till the crypt?
Even if it takes all of time?
Will it make us any smarter?
The answer is left to the unknown
Just like you can't see the gusts of wind
But you trust it's there, for you have seen what it has blown
True beauty is not in knowing, but in seeing
That the bee and the vine are being
One organism, like cells of a body
Each on an autonomic path
Just parts of a whole
Just bubbles in a bath
Categories only exist in unreality
Names are given by those
who know their own fatality
And those who know too well
That nature is untameable
And even more so unnameable
Go ahead, take a picture with that camera
Capture a part, for the whole is unframeable
It's all living, breathing and sneezing as one
You've made a mistake Aristotle
But you're damage is already done
That the bee and the vine are being
One organism, like cells of a body
Each on an autonomic path
Just parts of a whole
Just bubbles in a bath
Categories only exist in unreality
Names are given by those
who know their own fatality
And those who know too well
That nature is untameable
And even more so unnameable
Go ahead, take a picture with that camera
Capture a part, for the whole is unframeable
It's all living, breathing and sneezing as one
You've made a mistake Aristotle
But you're damage is already done
Natural things care not for their names
The names we give only oppress
I care for the games, so I will address
Although, I care more to caress
The beautiful land that we humans steadily infest
But I will always love the land;
For the grass field is mother natures dress
The names we give only oppress
I care for the games, so I will address
Although, I care more to caress
The beautiful land that we humans steadily infest
But I will always love the land;
For the grass field is mother natures dress
