The world has turned
about its fire
With the seasons’
cycle forged anew,
Sweeping back in its
endless gyre
A hemisphere clothed
in wintry hue.
The world has turned:
the buds await
The call to bloom in
the springtime sun;
Orion stands guard on
Evening’s gate:
His trembling hounds
now strain to run.
The world has turned:
and you and I
Face our rebirth hand
in hand
Our love reaching for
the sheltering sky,
Our roots deep in the warming land.
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