How lovely, if I were a bee,
to fly about the firmament
and tote the stuff of life with me
to gift each blossom as I went.

Unsound aerodynamically
yet gravity I circumvent.
Each nectar bath or pollen spree,
forms liquid gold, adds flowery scent.

How wondrous, if I were a tree,
to shelter in the shade I sent
two lovers with a moment free,
who stayed until their love was spent.

High in my branches, built alee,
the squirrel frames his winter tent.
The frigid winds from which he'd flee
pass by, with my protection lent.

How beautiful, if I could be
a star, who with the moon's consent,
shines down on bee and flower and tree
as soon as sun makes his descent.

The child, who prays on bended knee,
with head in loving reverence bent
looks up, and sings a song to me,
then makes a wish and sleeps, content.

I'd do it all without a fee,
no worldly goods need I augment.
As one with nature's harmony
I'd have to think my life well spent.