Busy Wings

I watched as a man stood near me, talking to a bee, trying to let it wash itself before he captured it to let it outside

In thise few moments, I thought about all of those times I failed to let insects be themselves, they are hust babies trying to navigate the world just as we are

We can learn so much about the world through all of the crawling and flapping of the wings, if we just paid nore attention

Writings From The Cafe

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Road to Gravel

I asked where you were going
You drove by and answered
Little boy, I’m going crazy, wanna come?

Little did I know, I already was on the road to where he was heading
Even though he never told me exactly where the roads met to be considered losing sanity

But I could taste the rusting familiarity on my tongue
As I fell face first into the gravel
After being warned that I was doing it all wrong

Stubborn, I was, but needed to learn on my own before it was too late to be taught

And now I’m too old to be scolded twice and too young to have watched a thousand sunsets wipe across my eyes

But I felt the rose petals drop before they rose up from the ground
And I kissed them

Writings from the cafe