Mind's Proboscis ( a mini-essay of poetic irony)

Like the ancestral Honey Bee
Sentient beings gather pleasurable nectar
Energy derived from both honorable and nefarious sources
Sometimes confusing this intelligent mastery
This purveyor of supreme intelligence
With scattered purpose
Even self-destruction

We assume energy's simple assignment as elation
Only to find so often
Embraced Epicurean philosophy twisted as miscreant
Arguably giving accident
Where only gratification was expected

Our insect friends know energy as simple
These winged ones
Whose limited
But acute intelligence
Keeps them focused
Little distraction overcoming instinctual purpose

Oh how simple the Honey Bee
Especially the female
So psyched with work
While its male counterpart
The drones
Find hanging around most suitable
Until they finish mating with the queen
And die

Lessons unlearned

Still

Honey Bees mind their own business
Gathering nectar and pollen
Infusing future
Planting
Harvesting

While we the supreme

Squander energy and mind gathering
Seduced by instant gratification
Forgetting we too have hives to nurture
Procreation to manage
New flowers of creation to sustain

How much there is to learn from our Lineages
Unlike the proclivity of Hemingway adherents
Our fluttering friends embrace color
But discern nothing of red
Might there be lessons to be learned?

From the simple translation of a Metropolis genesis
Lessons are sometimes avoided
Even when Time's evolution is circuitous and endless
Always present
So often struggling to be noticed

Might our mind's proboscis
Be without taste buds?