At Beekeeper’s Corner just down from my house Is a gap where the beekeeper’s house used to be I always remember the bees when I pass But today, it’s mostly the gap that I see Cos gaps are neglected and misunderstood They shift in the shadows, through cracks in the stones And when we’re not looking they alter their shape Between things that matter and others that don’t We’re highly suspicious of gaps when they form So we fill them with houses, then up on the walls We hang pictures of landscapes so open and free And repeat, until there are no gaps to see And repeat, until there are no gaps at all Now the beekeeper offers some ghostly advice That the gaps are a gift in this world full of stuff But the bees at the corner just down from my house Know that everything - everything isn’t enough
At Beekeeper’s Corner
Looking at the gaps between things rather than the things themselves. The place I call Beekeeper's Corner was growing wild when I wrote this song, but since then, four new houses have appeared.