Out on the drifts of pollen the bee's bright sound
Sings in the lush azalea blossoms now.
Bright layers of yellow dust are turning around
And gentle breezes play on the wings of spring.
All earth remembers life, the once stark tree
Gleams with the tender leaves of newness green.
Winter has drifted to the southern sphere
And summer will soon assume the fecund scene.
Laugh, for what looked like death was only sleep.
Dormancy holding life in lifeless shade.
No longer must Ceres look below and weep
Neglecting her work and letting flowers fade.
Man in his motion follows the seasons yet
Even as butterflies and moths and bees,
Eager for summer sun and showers wet,
Swept in the drift of time like summer trees.
Jay Cohen
Perspectives in Biology and Medicine, 22, No. 3, 1979