Spin

Within a blink,
earth spins and goes.
As nature shrinks,
capital grows.

Nurturing dies,
drowning in time.
Hurricanes cry,
humans defy.

Here to just take,
no giving acts.
Infested lakes,
more signed contracts.

Corrupted system
to be deferred.
Earth is a victim,
with pleas unheard,

The honey bees,
fly just to flee.
Cut forest trees,
polluted breeze.

Lingering kill
connections fall.
The world stands still
as nature calls.

Absorbing light
and all sun rays.
Hold on for life
and better days.

Feel comfort in
this cozy dome.
As the world spins,
treat it like home.

– Grace Y. Estevez- Reddy

Why?

Broken connections,
haunt my dull mind.
Loss of affection,
trailing behind.

Where did my friends go?
Who are they now?
Warm hearts turned so cold,
eyes filled with clouds.

A broken friendship
strums at my mind.
A lonely steamship
without a bind.

Why did we meet?
Why did we break?
Were we incomplete?
Was it all fake?

Memories linger
throughout each day.
Pointing a finger,
empathy swayed.

It served a purpose
time just ran out,
scratching the surface
releases all doubts.

Greater learned lessons
cement while alone.
Inner progression
within my bright zone.

– Grace Y. Estevez- Reddy

Honey

Bee sat on a rug, feeling warm and snug,
she cuddled up tight, then aimed for a bite.

Hearing a loud groan, distinct but unknown,
while shaken mid-air, she noticed a bear
.

The bear looked so sad, this made her feel bad,
she did not intend to sting her soft friend.
Regretting the sting, apologizing
while empathizing, decided to sing
.

Sorry I hurt you
I lost my control,
the urge just arouse,
command it then stole.
I never imagined
my rug was on you,
and will never know
how stinger pierced through?
I want to assure
but not guarantee,
I will try my best
to hold my impulse deep.


Bear still felt so bruised and downright confused,
bee thought his warm, hug belonged to a rug.
He cared for the bee, but just could not see,
how friendships repair, soon after despair.


He scratched his own head, with questions to shed,
if intentions are pure, can trust then be cured?
Is bee simply flawed, by nature’s stained law?
Is her greatest sin, defined by her sting?

“So sorry that you
did not understand.
Your rug is my fur,
your landing unplanned.
Tried welcoming you
and gave you a hug,
not knowing my strength,
it may have been snug.
Pain opened my eyes,
helped me realize,
that you did not mean
to disburse surprise
.
I now understand
how instinct takes place,
you use it if threatened
never to betray
.”

Clearing each other, heartbeats now flutter.
Skies, blue and sunny, friends sweet like honey
.


– Grace Y. Estevez-Reddy

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