Bee Wild

My soul has nothing to do
with believing.
My essence is intensely
playful silence,
free of opinions
about anything.
I will meet you here
in a flash
of bewilderment.
I love that word:
it means to bee wild.

This tipsy troubadour
doesn't ask,
"What kind
of flower
are you?"
He is only interested
in the shock and sweetness
of connecting.