The bee
is ambling
'mong roses
rambling
.. here and
there
everywhere
.. but when
his sacks are
laden
a beeline straight
is
his way home
Souls wander
her and there
following random
desires..
until liberation
is in their sites
.. then all is
grist
for godward fire
is straight
He had a wild youth
but once he took
his marriage vows
.. he kept them
forever