THE INJURED BEE

To usher cool breeze in,
I flung the window ajar,
Anon, a bee pushed in,
Battered itself on the window bar.

Ferocious look, sting at its end,
scared, I jumped on my bed,
apprehensive, it would sting my hand
or face or leg or head.

Incessantly, the bee spun on the floor,
Abortive attempt to fly and flee,
As I watched with utmost terror,
Injured was the poor bee.

Contemplating absolutely no danger,
In a box for safety, I placed the bee,
Hoping that poor patient recover
From the plight of injury.

As I opened the box to see my friend
Later, I suffered immense compunction,
I had the bee killed, it met its end
resulting from my flawed redemption.

The love of that bee would have along roadside,
Been waiting for the deceased bee
In the morning twilight, day and night
Searching for distances till the depth of sea.

They would have flown together dating
On bright mosaic petals humming romantic ditty,
Planning their never-to-come grand wedding.
Tell me then, shouldn’t I feel guilty???

Karma Thukten
06th of April, 2010