Drops of Nectar

At summer's end, at perfect time,

Hosta shoots reach up high;

As the purple cups, hanging down,

Beckon those flying by.

_ _

With whirring wings and slender beak,

Colors catching the sun,

Humming birds feast as they hover,

Always amazing one.

_ _

Yet on this day, the lumbering

Of those inside the cup,

Fumbling, tumbling, the bumblebees

Rouse this watching one up.

_ _

For while drinking drops of nectar

Prepared in flower'd jar,

The bees, unknowingly, bear gold,

Life that's spread near and far.

_ _

So too we receive His blessings

Not seeing as we taste,

Others touched as we're becoming

The vessels of His grace.