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.