Eatables

I want a pound or two
of what the bees make.
Some part of their infinite wisdom
to put inside me.
The honeycombs of their hearts
learned through the toil of ages.
I want their nature in me,
so when a child puts out its hand,
I can give them
what the bees give me,
light turned into sweetness,
life gathered in a palace,
each day of flowers and wind
put in a poem to feed us.