Will Honey Bee make it before the Flower withers

A seed lay just below the surface of earth,
Waiting, it germinated, roots growing deep,
Shoots piercing upward seeking light, destined process preceding birth,
Leaves spread wide after profound sleep.

The bee hummed and buzzed, in search of nectar,
It saw flowers many and bright,
Landing softly, it probed, though none it’s calling splendour,
Returning to hive without fulfilling insight.

Flowers bloomed, colourful and sweet, fragrant pretty petals opened,
Flourishing with life as time passes,
Dreading cycle end of decay, aging to be weakened,
Wanting spread seed before leaves detaches.

Transparent wings flying low, hovering, landing, darting off again,
Moral compass leading to fated encounter,
Tirelessly working to achieve and satisfy higher power ordain,
Despite unknown future, never losing composure.