This blue world spins through space belted with cloud
and the great ocean, turning slow through the silent dark,
turning slow, and at each turn another light goes out, another
tree falls in the forest, another child dies in its mother’s arms.
Blue earth spins while the stars look down, and we look up
and wring our hands, some dreaming of new planets,
others dreaming of the old, how sweet the blackbirds
used to sing and the beauty of roses on summer evenings.