Honey-Locust

 

It's June already, can you believe it? The start of summer. Gold-gilded, lovely, honey-warm, yellow sunny June. Mary Oliver captures its essence in this poem I think.

Honey Locust - Mary Oliver 

Who can tell how lovely in June is the

    honey locust tree, or why

a tree should be so sweet and live

    in this world? Each white blossom

on a dangle of white flowers holds one green seed -

    a new life. Also each blossom on a dangle of flower

         holds a flask

of fragrance called Heaven, which is never sealed.

    The bees circle the tree and dive into it. They are crazy

with gratitude. They are working like farmers. They are as

    happy as saints. After awhile the flowers begin to

wilt and drop down into the grass. Welcome

shines in the grass.

                                         Every year I gather

handfuls of blossoms and eat of their mealiness; the honey

     melts in my mouth, the seeds make me strong,

both when they are crisps and ripe, and even at the end

when their petals have turned dully yellow.

 

                                                                                So it is

if the heart has devoted itself to love, there is

    not a single inch of emptiness. Gladness gleams

all the way to the grave.