The world swings through vast changes every year,
From winter's blast to springtime's green foretaste
Of fertile summer's passionate career,
Then fall, and back to winter's cold embrace.
The planet spins, and whirls around the sun,
A dust mote flying in a plangent sky
Filled up with stars and galaxies beyond
The limitations of the mortal eye.
Slow time, a coruscating stream, that swells
And ebbs, oblivious to man's estate,
Uncaring, fills reality's deep wells,
And, conspiring with chance, ignores our fate.
First good, then evil, gain supremacy,
As waves of change roll on eternally.