Finding flowers with Honey bees

[Philatone]

hey bronte!
some thoughts to ponder; apologies if some have already been said as I haven't had a chance to read.

Nine 9.45 am 9th april 12




Best keep a low profile; Be incandescent under the sun...good start, opposing images. the second half of the line is great
I feel you pray the way we speak of them too far distant ...got a little lost on the "I feel you pray the way we speak of them". sounds are interesting; the meaning got tangled for me. I think it's the "pray

all the way to the end of time we own customs of obeisant.
I feel you pray of finding lexis , there is a texture in the air
of collective; of sweet cast in runes . Ever even ..for this line and the one above, I wanted to switch the comma and semicolon
between the stars we are joined at the hip, the wing, the hub ...a bit cliche, but focusing on one of the other images (e.g., sticking only with "we are joined at the wing") would make it a little fresher for me
the eye is always last to find consciousness. There is a bug
a million miles away tuning in to our divinity, expressing doubt ...wasn't a fan of "a million miles away," though it does match the poem's tone
that we might be worthy, of you, of them. If we pray ...didn't need the first comma.
to everything, probe all sensibilities , ours, theirs , yours,
will that be enough to keep joined essences in our rented lives .

There is merit in forgiveness , this is understood
But most keep their outer strands bound too tight ...nice play on "outer strands" and "bound too tight(ly)"
Where not even a honey Bees sting can penetrate! ...apostrophe after "Bee"
Their nerve endings too shrunk , cataracts fully formed
destroying pupils, the last focal points and last witness
to events. Their teacher too immature to grasp ...three lines above would hit me a little stronger if they were a sentence
the smallest bug might for ever, own all wisdom.




The wild meadow made for obsessive, night after night the lady bug ...first half of the line was unclear to me
flew in the window and walked over the pillow in ever smaller concentric circles .
I felt drawn to walk behind her, mentally we linked in the way of nature, of true life.
Of living a dream of a dream within a dream while we too were wide awake. ...i've heard this before..
and we meandered a meadow, her domain among flowers the height of trees.
I Read poppy thoughts, grasses, existence in every living flower, every sound
of nature at her finest.
It was snowing pollens incandescent and alive . ..like the reappearance of "incandescent"
I felt impregnated again, the same instant a flower knows that she has been
saturated body and soul with life while her mate extends,
Oh, flowers, she owns all that can’t be taken, can never be understood
unless you too have joined completely with a new life.

Natures musts, wins

in general, punctuation threw me off at times (though for the poem's sake, I didn't include everything. feel free to ask if concerned about that). some of the ideas came off more strongly than others . the added section at the end gave me less than the others

thanks for the read; hope I could provide something valuable