At the birth of the day 

As a babe of the spray 

Like a white star, tangled and far, 

Tulip that's what you are. 



Warm and wise as a mute 

In the thunderbolt suit 

Princely and torn, grasping the horn 

Of the maenads of May. 



Sleepy dreaming of dark 

Silver Satyrs in parks 

Statues that say, worship the day 

For only humans you are. 



Channels churning the grime 

Inky dreams of our time 

Into the Sun, where the white one 

Poems them into a rhyme. 



On a hill the clear shrill 

Made the Titans most ill 

Angels abound, and 

I'm kissing the ground 

Thrilled to be around 



Vineyards spangled with love 

For the white dove above 

Green and lean from the waste 

Of the pastures of chaste 

Preciously he is whole. 



Twinkled eyes like a king 

Charted seas on your skin 

Like a White Star, tangled and far, 

Tulip that's what you are.