Hurray to the Gonera bees that attacked but did not kill the boy who had wondered away found himself stuck in a mouthless cave, aware out there was light waiting to be seen.
Ah, growing up: I thought I would just join other boys to hide-and-be-sought; but my find-me-now shout bounced on sealed ears then landed in the Killer Hive and swarm found me squatting behind a clump of darkness:
the song was not a Haleluya chorus the song was not a song but the thunder of wings the thrust of sharp needles the madness of Ancient spirit a-buzz, not intent to feast; just a few injections of sense into growing zeal, tomorrow's leader with the desire for wisdom knowledge of boundaries in this country of ours the Promised Honey and Honey now not flowing in Rivers but on wings, abuzz and stinging -- it's a miracle I'm still walking on two!