The Tulips are singing. Red, yellow, blue, purple;
with their sudden tongue and a new song.
Listen o’ honey bee, still and silent.
Melodies of love and loss, of pain and despair.
stories told and untold, listen.
Feel their pulse, taste their fear;
sense their loneliness and numbness.
Tulips vivid and vogue.
Listen o’ honey bee. Is it you they seek?
Or the Moon and the Neptune?
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