Oh what a lovely dance it is

the advance and retreat

of the tide of time

uncurling, unfurling buds of leaves

then painting them bright,

red, orange, and gold with cold

fingers whatever lingers.

Then white swirls bleach the brown

pristining the town and the countryside

until the tide of time grays down

the crusts remaining. Dancing in

and dancing out hours accordion

shaping the light, day and night,

over and over again.

The merry go round goes round

and the sound of the wind, and

the sound of the rain beat time,

and again repeating the long refrain

of warm to cold and light to dark,

brightening sun to glowing sparks

in the sky, as stars revolve.

The roundelay dance of time

circles us in and circles us out

as we with the seasons sing our songs

joining our voices to make a chorus

of all the singers from now and then

as time swings round and back again

with the swirl and swoop of stars.