Little bee
you came out
almost
too soon,
winter’s trickster feintBut sun is warm
bones thaw
you move again with grace
about your daily choresYour wings loose
and stretch
ready for flightViolas call
You cleaveAnd I ride your back
honeymeade our drink
eternity our design
To Create... 
For some reason, I thought of Shakespeare when reading this poem. It’s charming and yet, so deep. Aren’t we all a little bee, after all?
Oh, yes, we are. Thank you.
You are welcome!