This is a companion piece to a more solemn poem I wrote called “If We Knew.”
she buzzed with a nod,
the Queen Bee, the wisest,
so she was in charge,
of this jury of species,
the small and the large.
And lest you think
only animals rule
the bugs and the fish
and the trees are there, too.
Mother Earth watches over,
to each one she’s true.
The first man approaches
his eyes opened wide
never thinking he’d be judged
by the beings outside,
he thought he the master
of all that resides.
The questions commence
each one a hard blow
to the man’s sense of self,
and he starts to feel low
as his actions are read,
an indictment, he knows.
He was careless and selfish
when life was at stake
for insects, for forests,
for those on his plate,
he thought only his needs
carried the weight.
“Guilty,” they ruled,
and she buzzed with a smile,
“A chance you’ll be given,
in our shoes, walk a mile.”
To earth he returned
to reflect for awhile.
When next he woke up
his eyes they were five,
he thought, “I’m a bee,”
but there was no hive.
He sniffed and he flew,
drawn straight to a pile…
Of poop; he was lucky,
she’d made him a fly,
a few days to a month
and then he would die,
or sooner if a man
with a paper did spy.
Smush!
Poetry by Melinda K Zarate
Read 3 times
Written on 2026-03-26 at 18:54
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The Council’s Verdict
“Let the council commence,”she buzzed with a nod,
the Queen Bee, the wisest,
so she was in charge,
of this jury of species,
the small and the large.
And lest you think
only animals rule
the bugs and the fish
and the trees are there, too.
Mother Earth watches over,
to each one she’s true.
The first man approaches
his eyes opened wide
never thinking he’d be judged
by the beings outside,
he thought he the master
of all that resides.
The questions commence
each one a hard blow
to the man’s sense of self,
and he starts to feel low
as his actions are read,
an indictment, he knows.
He was careless and selfish
when life was at stake
for insects, for forests,
for those on his plate,
he thought only his needs
carried the weight.
“Guilty,” they ruled,
and she buzzed with a smile,
“A chance you’ll be given,
in our shoes, walk a mile.”
To earth he returned
to reflect for awhile.
When next he woke up
his eyes they were five,
he thought, “I’m a bee,”
but there was no hive.
He sniffed and he flew,
drawn straight to a pile…
Of poop; he was lucky,
she’d made him a fly,
a few days to a month
and then he would die,
or sooner if a man
with a paper did spy.
Smush!
Poetry by Melinda K Zarate
Read 3 times
Written on 2026-03-26 at 18:54
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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melanie sue |
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 by Melinda K Zarate Latest textsThe Council’s VerdictDear Ralph Until Then After If We Knew |
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