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!