The Planet Tilts

The planet tilts and springs us into springtime,

The star of Venus lifts, her sparrows chatter

And in my garden all the plantings creep

From fugitive shoot to leaf, from bud to flower

Till all the jubilant earth erupts

And spits itself to seeding.

But I am past that season, into winter,

Where seeds and dreams all hide in silence

And hardened by that frosty sleep, await

The constant revolution of the world.

For move it does, this patient waiting earth

Till restless men will it to tilt

And spin us all to brighter, better springs.