Naomi Shihab Nye, “Bees see your face as a strange flower”

Nashville warblers see you as a scary-looking tree.

Garden snakes slithering into lilies see you as a storm.

The abandoned house perceives a possible doctor.

You sweep up mouse crumbs, then turn your back.

Children on the other side of the world see you as glittering.

Depressive sees your smile as a threat.

Dude playing top volume rap sees old lady staring back.

The sea, the sky, the air see us as trouble.

They’re right of course. We see each other as the landmarks of a day.

History doesn’t see us. It doesn’t see us at all.

From this we should draw one ounce of relief.