01/05/2025
Can you hear me?
I’m just a bee—one of the few left. I used to dance through fields of lavender, sunflowers, and wild daisies, weaving between color and scent. But now… the flowers are gone. The silence is growing. Every morning, fewer of us return.
I wasn’t meant to cry. Bees don’t weep. But if we could, we would flood your streets with tears of petals and pollen—for all we’ve lost… and all we still might lose.
You may not notice when we disappear. We’re so small. But your trees will notice. Your fruits, your gardens, your future will notice. And your children will ask, “Why is it so quiet?”
Please… don’t let that happen.
There’s still time. I’m still here. Some of us are.
Plant something wild. Leave your soil messy. Let the weeds bloom. Talk to your friends. Change just one thing. Because even the smallest act of kindness might become the last reason we survive.
I’m not asking you to save me for me. I’m asking you to save us—for you.
We were never separate. We never will be.
Save the bees…
And you might just save the last flower worth remembering. 🐝💧
