The Trees Are Bleeding Honey

The trees are bleeding honey
And I am bleeding time, friends, and love
What sweet, sweet things we let out into the world,
All abounding and ablaze.
And yet, I wish I still had the roots below me
To lean onto as sticky sap pours
Into the atmosphere.
And maybe some ground would regrow,
Presenting itself as the safety net
To catch all the things we lost last winter.
Maybe, as I prepare for this new year,
I will consume some honey,
Let it drip down my throat,
And be revived at last.
The trees are bleeding honey
But I am bleeding time, friends, and love
What sweet, sweet things we have in this world.