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.