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.