In the garden of her father there were bees... beautiful honey bees
They were pure love and pure kindness...
They were bees of a gentle nature...
The male bees were constantly drunk and if you looked deeply you could see this clearly...
The female bees were very busy and focused...
The Queen was Royal and silent...
You could feel the love from the bees...
You could feel the love from the man, for nature, for the bees and for his daughter...
His daughter went a long way to discover the love again... but the love remained within the garden despite the fanciness of everywhere she traveled...
She reminded me of the Alchemist who traveled long and hard in order to discover what he already had as a treasure...
Her true treasure was not the garden or the bees of her fathers love...
Her true treasure was the awe that she had for it all, the innocent enlightened awe of it all... a silent devotional enthusiasm...
It would only appear when the queen bee was awake... the rest of the time it would sleep in deep silent love for it all...
Namaste