One swallow does not make it spring.
Twice denied, it will come anyway.
To San Juan, the sun will bring
The swallows from far Santa Fe.
A chosen few will lead the way
Fly in one morning by the gate.
Find a perch looking cross the bay
And on that branch their friends await.
When will they come? Will they be late?
Not arrive 'til May's full flower?
We see already with beauty great
The first buds upon the bower.
In early spring just one swallow
Then a troop, soon all will follow.
Baha, 160 B.E.
(c) Larry Kenneth Gates, 2005
(Also accepted by World Order Magazine)