The sun drew a cloud across its face and the rain wept; and the flower pressed its petals together as if to become a bud once again that it might be sent back into the garden. And the bee circled around the window but was very careful not to come too close. And the life of the bee whispered, "Don't fade, flower...wait for me."

Then the life of the flower was content and it answered, "I wait," And once again the Urge sighed in despair because it could not know if it had made the flower too early or the bee too late.

But now the cloud had spent itself and the sun shone hotter and hotter, and the man opened the window. The flower put forth its scent to call the bee and heard it buzzing in the garden below. It opened its petals and the Urge rushed over it and at last it bloomed full. Then the Urge rushed over the bee and carried it toward the window; but there was a fear at the memory of the windowpane and the life of the bee cried, "The flower belongs to the man and the woman...it is not right that I should gather nectar from their flower!" And the bee broke from the Urge and flew away.

The life of the flower said sadly, "l was made for the bee... what can the man and the woman know of nectar?" And spreading its petals as far as it could, it sent its fragrance after the bee.

And the Urge followed the bee and said, "The field and garden are full of flowers..."

But the life of the bee answered, "I shall take no nectar but from the flower in the window, and it will wait for me. Meanwhile, I will just be a bee who sees the beauty in all of the flowers." Then the Urge told all of the flowers to envelope the bee in scent, and there arose such a sweetness in the air that the bee was lost.

Buzzing wildly, the bee flew straight up to the window and through the memory of the fear into the flower's heart; and the life of the flower leaped up to kiss the sun...

But suddenly the bee drew back as though in anger and turning from the sweetness, it took flight. Then the flower began to sway as though in pain, and the Urge said, "There is enough nectar for many bees, flower, because you have been storing it for so long."