But the bee kept its wings over its head and the life of the bee answered, "The flower aches with it for I drew so very little ...the nectar is so sweet and the fragrance made me dizzy...my wings could scarce support me and I could carry no more." Then the bee shuddered and was still.

The Urge went to the flower and said, "The bee is very busy; there are so many flowers...so much closer and easier to reach... and all have nectar that is sweet. Why don't you give up your store to the others?"

But the flower drooped and the life of the flower whispered, "I will wait forever..."

And when the other flowers in the field and garden started to fade and drop their petals it remained as it was. And slowly the bee recovered itself and flew all over the land admiring the beauty of the flowers and remembering the sweetness of the nectar; and that was a part of the beauty, too. But it did not fly near the window.


One day the Urge told the sun to start waning, and the sun said, "I will not, for the window must remain open!"

And the Urge told the flower to let its outer petals curl and drop, and the life of the flower said, "l will not, for I must wait for the bee!"

Then the Urge told the bee to gather the rest of the nectar, and the bee said, "Sometime...perhaps." but the bee was grown now, and content with the beauty that it saw over the land. And yet the life of the bee whispered, "...there was the windowpane..."

The sun said, "l will shine hot and bright forever!"

And the life of the flower said, "I will wait forever!" Then, opening its innermost petals, it sent its fragrance after the bee once again. The bee left the garden and flew up to the window, and from somewhere it knew the memory of the sweetness and the memory of the fear as one. And it passed the window, circling high into the air.