As the Sun to the Bower

As the sun turns the bower to face her, she sets
every shower to right as she goes
with the light of the heavens to watch o’er, she lets
every flower sleep tight as a rose

who, in bud, is a baby not yet opened up
to their fullest potential but rests
in position, protected enough to wake up
when the rhythm of daybreak attests

that no matter the level of light it provides—
the circadian process shall see
they fulfill waking callings the dark overrides
to return fully bloomed to the bee

who in turn will enrich them, not only his own,
while providing the Kingdom with sweet honeycomb.

© 2022 Ea Imbrie

Can be sung to the tune of …